


The 7-Eleven Experience

by Rhys (rhyssj)



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-21
Updated: 2004-02-21
Packaged: 2019-04-20 08:18:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhyssj/pseuds/Rhys
Summary: JC spends too much time at 7-Eleven.





	The 7-Eleven Experience

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sinead for the beta

"What are we waiting for?" JC finally asked after he and Justin had spent fifteen minutes loitering on the steps of the studio, not talking. The night was too hot, the air too muggy. JC just wanted to go home and sleep or write or have cybersex. Anything but what it was he was doing. 

"Chris’s boyfriend." Justin tilted his head in the direction of Chris, who was standing twenty feet away and pretending he was alone. "I want to see him. It’s been seven months." 

"Oh," JC said. He nibbled at his fingernails, pulling small bits off with his teeth then spitting them on the pavement. Chris’s boyfriend was the reason, in a roundabout way, that JC wasn’t home yet. He worked for some environmental organisation and believed in carpooling, and Chris’s propaganda had finally worked. "Do you have to see him now?" 

"I have to see him eventually. If Chris won’t introduce me like a normal person, I’m gonna do it my way. I’ve heard too much about this guy to let Chris take his sweet ass time. ‘Sides, Chris says he’s mad hot, and I wanna admire the goods. Chris tends to exaggerate, you know." 

"Can’t you get a ride home with them?" JC yawned. "Man, I’m so tired. Let’s just go." 

Justin waved the comment away. "You’ll be up for hours, C. Don’t give me that. Shh." 

JC folded his knees to his chest and crossed his arms over them to use as a chinrest. Hours, maybe, but JC was definitely ready for a nap. It’d been a long day. The a/c in the studio had been on the fritz, and Joey had been forced to bring Brianna in with him. JC loved her because she was Joey’s kid, and normally she was adorable. Sometimes, though, she was a holy terror. 

"Man, maybe Chris is just making up this boyfriend because he doesn’t want to admit he’s trying to save the environment," JC said suddenly, yawning again. His jaw cracked in three places. What JC really needed was one of those icy cappuccino Slurpees from 7-11. That would wake him up and keep him perky while he messed around online with BrightBiBoi80. 

JC closed his eyes, shifting most of his weight onto Justin, who didn’t seem to mind lending himself as support. Every once in awhile, Chris and Justin jolted JC from his doze, yelling brief things at each other. From how JC was sitting, he could no longer see Chris, but he imagined him anxiously looking up and down the darkened street. 

JC heard a car pull up, which meant Justin was off and running. JC hit the pavement pretty hard, but it was enough to shock the sleepiness right out of him like a slap. Wiping the dirt off his ass, JC walked over to where Chris and Justin were bickering as Chris’s boyfriend watched. 

"Malcolm, this is Justin," Chris levelled a look at Justin that would have brought a building down if his eyes were laser-equipped, "and JC. Guys, this is Malcolm," Chris glanced briefly in Malcolm’s direction, and Malcolm offered him a quick secret smile, "the boyfriend." 

"It’s nice to finally meet you guys." 

Malcolm offered his hand, and JC took it, shaking briefly. He was polite, which JC appreciated, and he seemed entirely underwhelmed, which JC appreciated more, but he wouldn’t last long. They never did. JC looked down at his feet, noticing he was dangerously close to a wad of gum. Malcolm kept on talking. He had a nice voice. JC wondered, idly, if he could sing. 

"Chris told me about the car-pooling thing you guys are doing, and I just wanted to say thank you. I know it can be a little inconvenient, but I think, in the long run, the effects are positive." 

JC looked up, sure Chris would be rolling his eyes, but he wasn’t. He looked proud, his gaze firmly fixed on Malcolm as he talked. Justin was scrutinising him subtly and seriously, which Malcolm didn’t even seem to notice. Chris’s fingers were brushing Malcolm’s hand. 

"No problem, man," JC said suddenly. "It’s nice to have someone to drive in with." 

"Even if my carpool buddy drives like my grandma," Justin added, grinning. 

Chris slapped his hands down on the trunk of the car. "Okay, enough with the chit-chat. Let’s get out of here before the sun rises. Things to see, boyfriends to do. Chop, chop. Let’s go." 

"It was nice to meet you," Justin said amiably, dodging Chris’s elbow when Chris pushed past him to open the passenger door. "Hey, fuck off, Chris. I’m being congenial here." 

"Whatever," Chris said, rolling his eyes. 

Justin ignored Chris, pointing a finger at Malcolm. "Treat this guy well, all right?" 

"I will," Malcolm promised. 

Chris and Justin scuffled a bit before Chris slammed the door on Justin’s fingers, and that was the end of it. Inwardly, JC sighed. Chris and Justin always acted like this whenever either one of them started seeing someone. _Jealousy_. For that reason alone, Malcolm wouldn’t last. 

Justin waved as they drove off while JC fidgeted with the hem of his tee-shirt. After awhile, Justin poked him in the arm and JC looked up, lifting a hand to brush the hair out of his eyes. It was slick and heavy on his neck. He’d had it tied back for most of the day, but Joey had stolen his elastic for Brianna’s unruly curls after she’d flushed her headband down the toilet. 

In the car, JC asked, "man, do you mind if we stop at 7-Eleven on the way? I’m starving." 

Justin was right. The night was still young, and the brief Malcolm interlude had nicely rejuvenated him. There was email to check and chat groups to join. One of his favourite dudes, JoeCanadian77, had promised to be online, and JC was not going to sleep through that, no way. 

Justin shrugged. "You’re driving, C. It’s your mileage. Whatever." 

~~~ 

JC’s face was on a bunch of teen magazines, solo, and it was still freaky. Sometimes, he thought Maddy and Dwayne put them all at the front just to weird him out, which made it better, actually. Made him laugh, anyway, though JC prayed Chris never found out and co-opted the joke for his own. 

"Hey, JC," Maddy said as JC came up to the counter with Justin hot on his heels. 

Being outside in public without bodyguards made Justin nervous, and JC was sorry for that, but his hunger was almost crippling, and Justin _had_ refused to stay in the car. Sometimes, JC couldn’t imagine what Justin’s life was like. Sometimes, JC thought he was living it, too. 

"Hey, Maddy. This is my friend Justin." JC pointed with his thumb behind his shoulder. He knew Justin was shadowing him even if JC couldn’t exactly see where he was. "Justin, this is Maddy. We keep the same hours." JC craned his neck over the counter, looking. "Dwayne’s around here somewhere. He’s the one I had you autograph Justified for. You remember, right?" 

"Yeah," Justin said, suddenly standing at JC’s side, nodding when JC looked back over his shoulder. Justin sounded surprised with himself, which made JC smile, and a little sad, too. 

"C’mon, man." JC tugged on Justin’s arm. "I’m thirsty." 

JC wove in and out of the aisles before he got to the cappuccino Slurpee machine. Justin rolled his eyes and didn’t say anything, fidgeting with the edge of his cap. Someday, Justin was going to develop a mean case of agoraphobia. Of course, it took every bit of strength JC had to leave his own house sometimes, so he understood that strange fear of the outside world. 

"You want one?" JC asked after he’d filled one cup, but Justin shook his head. 

Sipping his Slurpee through a neon pink straw, JC went back to the magazine rack for something to read. He had subscriptions to most of them, but a couple charged way too fucking much, and he needed an excuse to browse. Of course it wasn’t a library, but Maddy and Dwayne were cool about him taking his time and just looking. It wasn’t like he was going to steal. 

"I can’t believe you’re on a first name basis with the 7-Eleven people," Justin said, picking up a copy of Seventeen that had his face on it. Hottest guy in the world, it said. JC would easily believe it, but he kept his mouth shut on _that_ topic. "Do you get free shit?" 

"Sometimes. I like to pay, but you know I’m not one to fight over things." 

Justin lifted an eyebrow. 

"Well, things outside the studio," JC amended, grinning. "I just want it to be good." 

"Well, the way you’re going, it’s gonna be _great_." 

"I’ll calm down," JC promised, even if he crossed his fingers behind his back when he said it. JC thought Justin knew, though, from the way his mouth quirked with a slight smile and how he nodded right after, just a dip of his chin. Justin had always known when to humour him. 

~~~ 

The 7-Eleven thing turned into the 7-Eleven Experience, the two of them dropping in after studio time on any given night. After the third time, Justin calmed down. JC even talked Justin into trying the nachos and cheese, promising that he wouldn’t get food poisoning, and that nobody had stuck his or her fingers into the cheese, and that the chips were guaranteed fresh. 

One night, they parked after an especially heated round of recording, loaded down with hot dogs that dripped with jalapeno peppers, mustard, ketchup and, on Justin’s, spicy nacho cheese. They also had Super Gulps filled with soda and ice cubes and much-needed caffeine. 

JC had broken his faux-promise, and yelled at Chris for sounding like he’d been swallowing Brillo pads, and at Joey for pretending to fellate the microphone, and at Lance for laughing at Joey. Only Justin had escaped his wrath, and that was probably because JC had been too busy trying to get the other guys to be serious for one fucking moment, _please_. 

"I don’t know why they have to be such morons," JC finally said, licking his fingers. 

Justin snorted. "Hey, C, have you been in the same group as me for the last ten years? They’re morons. Hell, we’re all morons when we want to be." Justin balled up his hot dog wrapper and tucked it into the plastic bag they were using as a garbage can. "And Chris’s voice is fucked up because Chris got it in his stupid ass head to deep-throat, even though he can’t." 

"That’s no excuse," JC said, but he was already laughing even as he valiantly tried not to. Justin was already there, his eyes glimmering like stars as he chuckled. "You’re kidding, right?" 

"Dude, I wish." 

"No, seriously," JC insisted. They all pulled his leg so often, he couldn’t tell anymore. 

"Seriously. Ask any of Chris’s ex-boyfriends, and they’ll tell you. Some guys buy you, like, your favourite DVDs when they’re totally into you, or start keeping changes of clothes at your house without asking, or bring you to meet their parents. Chris tries to deep throat, every damn time, and every damn time, he ends up puking and sounding like crap for days." Justin shrugged. "It weeds out the bad guys, I guess." 

"And you know this because -" JC didn’t bother to finish. He’d always wondered, on some level, if Chris and Justin had actually done it. Most of the time, he thought they actually had. It was kinda inevitable, but the rest of the time, he really hoped they hadn’t. Regardless, Justin looked at him like he was nuts. 

"Because Chris tells me this shit, man," Justin said, rolling his eyes, but whether at Chris or himself, JC didn’t know. "And I am happy to tell you that Malcolm’s still around, even if Chris threw up all over him. I think this guy’s a keeper, C. Tell Chris that, will you?" 

"Sure," JC said, shrugging. 

Justin nodded briefly then lifted his eyebrow, grinning. "So C. Seeing anyone?" 

JC knew he was turning hot red. He could feel the burn of his blush all over his face. He still mumbled, "no," even though it was so obvious he was lying through his teeth. This was why he preferred the truth: it was much better for his complexion. He only hoped the dark adequately camouflaged it. 

"Tell me," Justin said, poking at JC’s stomach, full well knowing JC hated having his stomach manhandled after he’d just eaten. Poke, poke, poke, and JC was squirming, fumbling for his keys to start the car and get out of there before he confessed. "C, you suck with secrets." 

JC sighed. "I know, but it’s embarrassing, man. Or it will be, once you cats find out." 

Justin crooked his eyebrow higher, and JC felt his will begin to shatter. 

"I’m doing some online stuff," JC muttered, rubbing a finger across his forehead, looking up at Justin through his eyelashes. Justin didn’t look like he was laughing, at least not yet. "Online stuff at, like, sites where, you know, there are guys, because I’ve been thinking about it." 

"No shit," Justin said, sitting back and grinning. "So like, cybersex with guys?" 

"Some," JC admitted, ignoring the wide split of Justin’s smile. It was why JC hadn’t bothered to mention anything, knowing they’d make fun of him. He just liked cybersex an awful lot, and he wished they’d at least give it a chance before ruthlessly mocking him about it. He’d even offered to hook them up with some cool people. It could be loads of fun when done right. 

JC watched in horror as the smile dropped off Justin’s face, replaced by something much more serious, a look that JC could easily imagine on his own mother. "You haven’t met any of these guys, right?" Justin leaned in menacingly, putting a hand on JC’s knee. "Right, C?" 

"Not yet," JC offered. He wanted that teasing smile back now, please. 

"No way," Justin said, vehemently shaking his head. "No way, C. I’m all for the healthy exploring of your sexuality, but I’m not letting you hook up with internet psychos to do it." 

"You read too many self-help books," JC said, "and watch too much Dr. Phil." 

Justin scoffed. "No, I just have a better solution. Let’s you and me do it." 

In the shadows, JC pinched himself. No way was Justin offering _that_ so easily. JC could even barely even admit to himself that if he had to pick a guy to lose all his guy-sex virginity to, it would be Justin, hands down. Any of the guys would have done in a pinch, but Justin, _yes_. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t just that. It was Chris, and the guys, and the future, and _everything ever_ , and JC heard himself say, "I don’t think so." It sounded far away, like it wasn’t him saying it, but antimatter-him, stupid-moron-him. "I mean, J, you’re sweet to offer, but I think, I. Um." 

"Too much?" 

"Yes, yes," JC agreed quickly. "I mean, I don’t even know if I, you know, guys, for real." 

"Yeah, I can understand that. All right, C." Justin smiled and held up his hands in surrender, and JC wanted one of them to smack him for being an idiot. He was turning down sex with Justin Timberlake. "But the offer’s open, all right? And absolutely no internet people." 

"No internet people," JC muttered, and hoped Justin only meant ‘in the flesh.’ 

~~~ 

JC was wiped out by the next morning, having stayed up way too late having chat-sex with MrJTLuver81. It was Justin’s turn to drive. As he blearily brushed his teeth, JC could hear him happily honking away in the driveway. JC threw on an old pair of sweatpants and grabbed a Pop Tart before running out the door in his bare feet, a pair of flip-flops pinched under his arm. 

"Don’t ask," JC warned when Justin opened his mouth. 

Justin snapped his teeth together, and it was a peaceful ride after that, even though JC had to mentally prepare himself for the teasing. No way had Justin been able to keep quiet about JC’s internet sex adventures, not with Chris as his best friend, annoyingly nosy Chris who had been raised with four sisters and, as an unfortunate side effect, gossiped like a teenage girl. 

It was a little anti-climactic, then, to find out that Justin hadn’t actually said anything. JC didn’t really believe it until late afternoon, when he realised everyone was making fun of Chris instead, whose voice was still crap. Not only that but Chris was walking with an obvious limp. 

"No, no," Chris was saying when JC came back from his bathroom break, taken more to avoid killing Joey, who couldn’t seem to hold a fucking note today, and less because he had to go. Chris was on his back, Justin holding his knee up by his ear. "It was like this, see, all night." 

Lance whistled lowly. "Jeez. No wonder you’re walking wounded today, Chris." 

"If _someone_ ," Justin said, pushing on Chris’s knee with more of his weight and nearly folding Chris in two as Chris’s face blossomed into a colour resembling a tomato at its ripest, "would just accept he isn’t flexible enough for shit like that anymore, if he ever was at all ..." 

Honestly, JC didn’t know what Justin was talking about. Chris looked pretty damn flexible to him, and JC couldn’t stop himself from imagining how Chris and Justin would look, together, in a naked and sexy way. It wasn’t that hard, what with their incredibly suggestive pose. 

"At least _someone_ ," Chris gasped out with harsh, ragged breaths, "is getting laid." 

"He’s got a point, dude," Joey said, arm draped over Lance’s shoulders, grinning. 

"I have prospects." At the resulting looks of disbelief, Justin yelped, "I do! Seriously!" 

"Dude, leggo of my leg," Chris finally said, rolling out flat the moment Justin released it. Chris sat up, still sounding short of breath when he added, "and kid, really, for being one of the hottest guys in the world-by popular consensus no less- you need to work that mojo a little more." 

"Prospects," Justin repeated, slapping a hand over his heart, "I swear to _god_." 

JC ignored the quick look Justin levelled in his direction and sat down at the soundboard, mostly to hide his sudden obvious erection. Damn these sweatpants, JC thought grimly, adjusting the knobs until the sound inside the booth faded away, and his friends turned into mimes. 

~~~ 

Justin had a sixth sense about people that JC had always been grateful for. More these days, since Justin hadn’t mentioned his offer again, and that was a huge relief. If he was asked again, JC was sure he wouldn’t say no, consequences be damned. It was just too easy to get him into bed; the more JC thought about it, the more sex with Justin seemed like a wonderful idea. 

A little part of JC was bitter about the whole thing, actually. Every time he’d had chat-sex since, there had been a niggling voice in the back of his mind reminding him (as he struggled to stroke his dick and type all at the same time) that Justin Timberlake, who was frequently the topic of chat, had offered to sleep with him, had offered to have _real_ _sex_ with him. JC wished he could shut the voice up, because it was ruining his normally enjoyable cyber-sex-capades. 

"Hey, C," Justin shouted across the store from where he hovered by the front counter, "you want nachos?" He already had one plastic container filled to the brim with steaming hot cheese, made specially for him. Typically, Justin had charmed his way into Maddy’s nacho-making heart. 

JC briefly looked away from the Slurpee machine. So many decisions, so little time, but the nachos were exquisitely tasty, so the answer was an easy, "yes, please, hit me up." 

"Jalapenos?" 

Tempting despite the potential for agonizing, chat-sex-killing heartburn, but, "no, thanks, man." JC returned his attention to the machine. "What flavour of Slurpee did you want again?" 

"Something fruity, C. Surprise me, but no mixing, all right? That’s rank." 

JC scoffed, but he did concede to Justin’s boring demands. Half the fun of Slurpees was to mix all the kinds together until you had deliciously brownish sludge. JC shrugged to himself, not at all understanding the madness that moved Justin, then slapped the lids on, sliding the straws through the plastic stars. A few steps later, he met Justin at the front counter. 

Justin bumped JC with his hip. "You didn’t spike it, did you? Mix it up?" 

"J, man. You know I don’t have the balls for that. You’d kick my ass, cat." 

Justin lifted his eyebrows, grinning. "Sure would, _dog_." 

JC didn’t think Justin had any room to talk, having used "crunked" quite seriously in conversation for a good two years, but it wasn’t worth fighting over. JC had enough of that in the studio, though it often felt like he was fighting with himself. Everyone else ignored him. 

They juggled their haul out to Justin’s car, setting everything down on the roof as Justin fumbled in his front pocket, looking for the key. JC tried to keep his eyes on his feet and away from the bulge in Justin’s jeans that kept appearing with each impatient tug of Justin’s hand. 

~~~ 

In the car, JC kept the nachos firmly on his lap, even though it meant dripping cheese on his shirt. Justin drove them to a nearby park, settling under a streetlight. There were a couple cars in the lot. The windows of every one of them were fogged up, except theirs, of course. 

"How’s the kinky cybersex going?" Justin asked, scooping an obscene amount of cheesy jalapeno peppers into his mouth. Big mouth, JC thought a little dizzily, then shrugged, knowing Justin didn’t _really_ want details. Justin hummed a little. "I don’t know, C. Is that healthy?" 

"It’s like masturbating, except there’s someone else doing it, too, half a world away." 

"Yeah, but it’s sorta." Justin made a serious of vague gestures, but JC wasn’t getting any of them. JC thought his reasons for liking chat sex were pretty well documented, Digital Getdown and all. Plus, Justin had always sucked so hard at charades. "What about humans?" 

"Uh, I like them?" JC said slowly, helpless as his statement knotted itself into a question. 

Justin twisted up his mouth, tiny bits of nacho chips stuck to his lips like snowflakes. With the sheer power of his mind, JC tried to persuade Justin to change the topic, but it wasn’t much better when Justin sat back, the straw of his Slurpee caught between his teeth, and said, 

"So, all right, tell me. What got you started on this whole bi-curious adventure of yours?" 

"I don’t know, man," JC muttered, but Justin had known him way too long to accept a cop-out answer like that. "I’m not opposed, exactly, to the cock. I just have never, you know, been one with the cock. And yes. Something like that, man, I don’t know. It just seemed right." 

Justin grinned. "Sad, you know, that what you just said makes total sense to me." 

JC snapped his teeth on a nacho chip, splitting it in two. 

Justin didn’t seem to notice. He just sat back in his seat a little, lifting up his feet and putting them on the dashboard. Flexible, JC noticed idly, and decided not to think about it again. JC sucked intently on his straw, absolutely refusing to imagine how far Justin’s flexibility went. 

"There’s a naked willing guy stretched out in front of you. What’s the first thing you do?" 

"Man, I don’t know." JC pulled a curl between his eyes. "Run screaming?" 

Justin laughed. "C’mon, C. There must be something you _really_ want to do." 

"There is," JC said slowly, the heat already rolling through his body, pooling in his cock. The nacho tray shifted on his lap. Pretty soon, JC was going to have a face full of hot cheese. "I kinda, you know." JC puffed out his cheeks; Justin stared at him blankly. "I want to suck a cock." 

"Yeah?" 

JC nodded, putting his tray on the dashboard then settling back. "Man, sometimes I wish I could just suck my own, to get this kind of _wanting_ out of my system. It’s a little distracting," JC admitted, wetting his lips with his tongue, tasting the salt. "But yes. That’s what I want to do." 

"C," Justin said quietly, barely more than a murmur. When JC looked over, Justin’s eyes were on him, pale like silver in the light filtering through the windshield. There was lust there, and JC wasn’t surprised that Justin wanted him so bad. He hadn’t dated much, after Cameron. 

"I’m a little scared," JC said, "that I won’t like it, and then I’ll hurt your feelings, J." 

Justin shrugged. "If you don’t like it, you don’t like it. I know it’s not personal, C." 

JC hemmed and hawed a little more. "What if _I’m_ not any good at it?" 

Justin smiled, and touched two fingers to JC’s knee. "I won’t know the difference." 

~~~ 

They went to Justin’s house for two reasons: one, because Justin was better stocked for all eventualities, and two, because JC would feel guilty if he was near his computer, knowing HotBodZ6969 was waiting for him. Justin’s house had never seemed so daunting, JC thought as he slid his flip-flops off at the door. It was chilly inside, which raised the hairs on his arms. 

_I’m gonna have sex with a guy_ , JC thought stupidly, _sex with Justin_. _JustinJustinJustin_. 

They stumbled through small-talk, with Justin offering a drink then a burrito then a round of Halo on the Playstation, but JC just wanted to get it over with. He felt like he had when he was fifteen, so annoyed with being a virgin that he had just done it, and it had sucked so bad. JC had gotten his fingers knotted up in her bra, and he’d gone too fast inside, and he’d lasted about thirty seconds. Thinking about all of that made JC want to turn around and go home to sleep. 

But then, things were different, too. It wasn’t like JC was _really_ a virgin. Guy-virgin, sure, but he’d had more sex, on the average, than Justin, with more people and more kink. JC was pretty well read on the subject of male/male sex, thanks to the wonder of the internet, and all the chat sex had been sort of like practice, if you squinted and suspended a lot of disbelief. 

And it was Justin. That would help a lot, too. 

Justin went around the bedroom, closing the blinds and lighting candles. It seemed a little romantic, in JC’s opinion, but Justin was weird about sex like that. He took it _seriously_ , which was the best reason for getting the hell out of there. JC was in the middle of a sticky situation called Justin and Chris’s Predestined Epic Love Affair. Still, Chris _was_ otherwise engaged, and Justin wasn’t, and JC was a terrible, awful, no-good-at-all, _horrible_ friend, _yes_. 

"Okay," Justin said, "tell me what you want to do. Anything, C. Just do what you want." 

JC took a deep breath then crossed the room to where Justin stood. Talking while having sex was freaky, so that was JC’s first decision. The second was sliding his hands around Justin’s waist, under his tee-shirt, and pushing it up. Justin got a clue and raised his arms helpfully. 

The absence of breasts wasn’t quite as weird as JC thought it would be. Justin’s skin was warm as sunshine, the erratic beat of his heart like drums underneath. JC stripped off his own shirt, then he leaned against Justin, letting his body feel how different it was from a girl. Justin smelled sweet and fruity, like the Slurpee he’d had in the car, but he tasted like salty nacho chips. 

With his hands on Justin’s waist, JC pushed Justin over to the bed but didn’t make him sit down, not yet. JC licked him again, over the pulse in his neck, and Justin shivered. Girls did that, JC thought idly, then dropped his hands to the front of Justin’s jeans. Girls didn’t do _that_. 

Justin put his hands on JC’s shoulders as JC inched down his zipper. When JC looked up, Justin smiled, and JC kissed him. It seemed the polite thing to do. Justin’s mouth was wet and sugary, and though the scratch of beard stubble threw him at first, JC quickly got over it. 

So many things happened next that JC lost track of the order in which it all went down. Justin lost his pants, JC wiggled out of his own, they fell into a tangle on Justin’s king-sized bed, and JC touched another guy’s cock. Testing it out, JC stroked Justin’s dick a couple times. It felt so good in his hand, he figured it would probably feel better in his mouth. He bowed his head. 

"Do you want a condom?" 

JC looked up, tearing his eyes from the sight of his pale fingers on Justin’s dark cock. 

"I don’t have anything, I mean, I’m clean, but some guys ..." 

"It’s okay," JC said, "but thank you for thinking of me." 

Justin nodded, his lower lip caught between his teeth, and JC kept his eyes on Justin as he stuck out his tongue and very slowly touched it to the head of Justin’s dick. Justin went hard all over, the muscles in his thighs tightening to rocks under JC’s arms, but he didn’t close his eyes. 

There was a storm of thoughts in his head, telling him to do this and do that, but JC pushed them all away. They were harshing his vibe, man. Instead, he concentrated on doing what he liked to have done, hollowing his cheeks around the head and sucking, playing with Justin’s balls, tightening his fingers into a firm O at the base of Justin’s dick and stroking up and down. 

It was different, JC decided, but he definitely liked it. The taste was something he’d have to get used to, but he’d heard that guys tasted like what they ate, and Justin was definitely into healthy foods, into fruits and vegetables and whole wheat bread. JC didn’t swallow, but he tried. 

"Sorry, sorry," Justin said, after, dabbing JC’s chin clean with a Kleenex. JC offered a watery-eyed nod, coughing again to clear his throat, but Justin still looked panicked and sheepish. "I should have warned you I was going to come, but I get so into it, you know." 

"It’s fine, J." JC wiped at his eyes. "It just went down the wrong pipes, man, that’s all." 

"Can I make it better?" Justin raised his eyebrows then put his hand on JC’s naked knee. 

Shyly, JC nodded. 

~~~ 

When JC woke up, he was alone, but the mattress was still warm where Justin had slept. JC squinted at the clock then groaned into the pillow. It was almost noon, which meant back to the studio. He didn’t know how to he was going to face the guys, face _Chris_ , the morning after. 

"Hey," Justin said from the door to the bathroom, "do you need a toothbrush?" 

JC nodded, sitting up and beginning the desperate search for his clothes. Justin walked into the room, naked and still scrubbing at his teeth, and handed a toothbrush still in its plastic packaging to JC, who smiled gratefully. With a mouth full of foam, Justin smiled back. 

"Not too weird, I hope," Justin muttered around his toothbrush. 

"A little," JC admitted, "but nothing I can’t handle, J. Have you seen my clothes?" 

His clothes, it turned out, were in the laundry, the last absolute place JC wanted them to be. Justin was terrible with laundry, notorious for shrinking and dying things pink, but it was a little sweet of him to try anyway, even if JC had really loved that tee-shirt he wore yesterday. JC wasn’t at all assured by Justin’s fervent promises that he had other, _better_ clothes for JC to wear. 

JC hated getting up, but he knew it had to be done. With one last stretch, he stood up and walked into the bathroom. Justin looked away from the mirror, covered from nose to shoulders in shaving cream, and made vague gestures towards the door (or the towel rack, JC couldn’t quite tell, and the door _did_ make more sense), but JC shook his head. This was nothing new, living comfortably in each other’s space. He simply turned on the shower and stepped into the steam. 

JC soaped up, taking his sweet time getting at every inch of his skin, then rinsed off. He looked through Justin’s collection of shampoo before deciding on a banana-scented shampoo that even he, with his millions of dollars in the bank, was too cheap to buy. JC had only popped the top when Justin plucked the bottle from his hand. He opened his mouth to apologise, but Justin put his fingers across JC’s lips. JC turned around and wet his hair, then leaned back into Justin’s arms. 

"Not too weird at all," Justin murmured, combing his fingers through JC’s hair. 

"Mmm," JC replied, and closed his eyes. 

~~~ 

The problem with car-pooling, JC was beginning to understand, involved being late. Instead of just a single straggler, it happened in groups. They drove like maniacs to the studio only to discover Chris, Lance and Joey had left seven messages on Justin’s cell that Chris’s car had broken down by the Krispy Kreme and that they were going to be stuck there for a while. 

"I told him to get his fucking oil changed," Justin said after JC had listened to the message. "And then he called me an annoying little know-it-all who didn’t even know how to change the tires on his car. Which I do, by the way. It’s just more in theory than in actuality." 

"I’ve never changed a tire," JC offered, flipping through a months-old Details magazine. 

Justin hummed then broke into a bright smile. "So. Was last night okay for you?" 

"I don’t think we should be talking about this here," JC said, even though they were the only people in the entire building. Justin crooked an eyebrow and smirked, and JC gave in with a sigh. He supposed, after everything, he owed Justin that much. "Yeah, it was. It was really good." 

"And this morning in the shower?" 

"Also good," JC said quickly, squirming uncomfortably under the heat of Justin’s smile. "Man, it was, I don’t know, out of this world. It’s given me stuff to think about, and yes." JC found himself mirroring Justin’s smile, laughing a little breathlessly. "It was pretty damn hot, J." 

Justin scratched a hand over his belly. "I remember my first time with a guy. Seems like forever ago, you know? It was pretty awful, everything went totally wrong. I was so nervous, and I just kept fucking everything up, but it was so good, too. Just the feel of it, being there, finally." 

"Yeah," JC murmured, remembering the salty taste of Justin’s cock on his tongue. 

"It probably would have turned me off guys for a little while actually, if it hadn’t been for the fact I was doing it with a friend, like, my best friend. He made it kinda impossible to take the awfulness so personally. It kinda had to be, the first time, which is why I didn’t want you doing it with internet weirdos, you know? But hey, I’m a broken record. You’ve heard this all before." 

Had he? JC couldn’t remember. There were a lot of instances where, like, one of them thought everyone knew, but they’d actually only told Joey four times or something like that. JC wished he hadn’t heard it, because it confirmed things. Chris and Justin. He wasn’t surprised. 

"Can we keep this kinda quiet?" JC asked, thumbing the edges of the page he was on. 

"If you want," Justin said, "but I’m gonna have to tell Chris something. He notices shit. We might get lucky, seeing as he’s all distracted by Malcolm these days, but I doubt it." 

"Just tell him, I don’t know, that you got laid by a fine mama." 

"I have beard burn all over my neck," Justin replied, smiling. "So do you." 

JC touched his throat and winced. There was an unfortunate side effect he hadn’t thought about, which served JC right for always following the whims of his cock. He had an entire album under his belt about stuff his dick liked. Stupid, greedy thing, but okay, whatever. JC shrugged. 

"I’ll tell him I got laid by a mad hot guy. It’s been known to happen, right?" 

"Right," JC agreed. Blushing, he turned back to his magazine and read about nothing. 

~~~ 

Chris noticed all right. JC had kinda hoped he wouldn’t, but he walked in to find Chris grilling Justin, loudly admiring the rash on his neck. _Act cool, cat_ , JC told himself, and crossed the studio to get a glass of water. The clothes he was wearing were actually his own, Justin had assured him, apologising for the theft. They were years old and terribly out of fashion, but they smelled good. 

There was also the matter of the brand new underwear, which Justin had explained away with a shrug and a quick, "well, you know, sometimes you really get into it, and you end up, like, ripping shit. It’s only polite to offer a new pair. Not everybody’s into free-balling, you know, so I have a couple pairs of Fruit of the Looms for emergencies. Clean _and_ brand new, of course." 

JC couldn’t stop running his thumb over the edge of them, the ripple of the waistband strangely prominent against his skin. It didn’t help that he could barely keep his pants on. They were big enough for Chris and Joey to wear, at the same time. The mid-90's had been unkind. 

Joey was ever so helpful in making sure they stayed up, surprising JC with a wedgie five times before the five of them burned themselves out for the day. JC didn’t even mind, really. He didn’t _need it_ , obviously, but it didn’t piss him off either. Getting laid must have relaxed him. 

"Can you feel your balls in your throat yet?" Joey asked after the fifth time. 

JC coughed plaintively, then stuck his tongue out to the side, like a dead dog. 

Joey chuckled lowly. "Guess I’m not pulling hard enough, huh?" 

JC was on his tip-toes, crying from laughing so hard, when Chris, Lance and Justin came in with the celebratory pizza and beer. Joey had just been about to attempt a lift and hook, which JC wasn’t sure whether he was happy or sorry about. Once on the ground, JC put his stuff back in order. 

"Jeez," Lance said, shaking his head as he shoved over on the couch to let JC sit down, "I wouldn’t be walking after that." 

JC shrugged, reaching for a slice of pizza. He still wasn’t sure what they were celebrating, the album was still a mess of bizarre half-formed songs and no actual direction, but Chris had paid for the pizza _and_ the beer, and that was a rare treat. "Man, Joey’s really gentle about it." 

"The trick is to bring the pants up on an angle, bypassing all the junk," Joey explained. 

"And my balls aren’t that sensitive," JC added helpfully, opening a can of Budweiser. 

JC took a careful sip then looked up to see Justin watching him. _Oh_ , JC thought, resisting the urge to fold up his legs and bring his knees to his chest. It was going to be a little difficult, JC realised, pretending like he and Justin hadn’t slept together when the memories were so eager. 

~~~ 

JC used the old "do you want to come in for a drink" line on Justin when Justin dropped him off. It didn’t matter that the excuse was completely transparent and very, very lame. It got him what he wanted, which was Justin, ready and willing to be experimented on. JC felt a little guilty about it, actually. Not just for using Justin but for virtually standing up MusicIsSex1973, too. 

"Your chat sex buddies aren’t going to miss you?" Justin asked as JC tugged him upstairs by the hand. JC shrugged without turning around, and Justin added, "you can email them if you want to, C. I really don’t mind waiting. Internet psychos have feelings too, right?" 

JC resisted for a moment then gave in with a, "okay, but I won’t be more than a minute." 

Like a madman, JC sent off a series of quick, one-line emails. He scanned his inbox quickly, opening the email RockerDude79 had sent with a picture of his cock. Behind him, Justin whistled lowly then leaned over for a better look, putting a hand on JC’s shoulder for support. 

JC looked up. "Dude, I have more if you want to see." 

"That," Justin put his finger on the screen, leaving a greasy smudge, "is a very _nice_ dick." 

"Then pull up a chair, cat. I’ll give you the grand tour." 

It was a little weird, JC could admit, letting Justin see his pictures. Some of them weren’t authentic pictures, obviously porno-dick stolen from one of those websites JC downright refused to pay for, but most of the ones JC had kept were real, belonging to the real guys he’d met online. 

"Did you take a picture of yourself?" Justin asked after JC had set up his Windows Picture Viewer as a slide show. Justin kept his eyes on the screen when he spoke, but it felt like Justin was still looking at him anyway. Delicious thrills of pleasure streaked up JC’s spine. 

JC reached across Justin, clicking on ShylySinging76.jpg, resisting the urge to cover his face when the screen filled with his cock in all its glory. 

"Well, that’s definitely you." Justin narrowed his eyes. "You didn’t ..." 

JC rolled his own. "Digital camera, J. I’m not an idiot. I know eBay is not my friend." 

Justin barked a quick laugh. "Okay, okay, point taken. I’ll put the mother hen act away." JC lifted an eyebrow, because no way would Justin drop something before it was finished and driven into the ground. Justin sighed then held out his hands. "Just ... C, aren’t you worried?" 

"Man, not really. Carlos knows this guy who set me up with, like, this high-tech stuff that makes it look like my computer is in Alaska or something." JC shrugged, wishing Justin would close the window or move onto the next picture or _anything_. "My ass is covered, J." 

"Hm," Justin said, but it didn’t sound like he was actually listening. JC watched Justin as he lifted his hand again and traced the arc of JC’s cock with his finger. It was insanely hot in that strange way JC liked so much, and his cock stiffened immediately, from zero to sixty in ten seconds. 

"I’m not even going to ask," Justin finally said, pulling his finger off the screen and putting it on JC’s thigh, dangerously close to JC’s straining cock, "what you like better, virtual or reality." Justin’s face split with a laughing grin. "I don’t wanna be disappointed by the answer." 

"I don’t think you would be," JC admitted, taking Justin’s hand and placing it on his dick. Justin’s fingers bent like it was pure reflex to do so, and JC nearly hissed from how _great_ it felt. Screw Justin manhandling the picture of his dick, JC wanted Justin to manhandle the real thing. 

"Flatterer," Justin murmured, and leaned over to kiss him. 

~~~ 

Justin wasn’t afraid to kiss in the morning before they brushed their teeth. That took balls, and JC respected him for it. It was easier, the second morning, to enjoy Justin a little more. JC lay in bed and watched Justin stalk around the room, yelling at Chris to stop leaving voice mails when he and Malcolm were having sex, because it was _weird_. Yeah, if only it was that simple. 

When Justin came back to bed, he was tense and pissed, and JC did the only thing he could. He pushed Justin back, one hand spread on Justin’s chiselled belly, and practised on him, continuing the sloppy blowjob JC had started the night before. Justin had stopped him, and JC hadn’t even been able to ask _why_ before Justin’s mouth was on him, driving all thoughts from his head. It still bothered him, because normal guys didn’t _stop_ blowjobs, unless they were _horrible_. 

"Last night," JC said, pulling off and replacing his mouth with his hand, "did I suck, J?" 

Justin lifted his head, his hips still moving like liquid. "Only in the good way, C." 

"But you ..." 

"I’m a little pushy in bed," Justin admitted, lifting a hand to pull at his own hair, and he had the good grace to look a little sheepish about it, "and when you were going down on me, well, I suddenly wanted to go down on you instead. Like, so bad, C, you have no idea how much I wanted to taste your dick." Justin’s pink tongue licked across his lips. "You’re a natural, C." 

JC grinned. "Man, thank you. That really means a lot." 

"Anything for you," Justin replied idly, his head already back on the bed, his hips lifted. 

JC took his time with Justin, using the light streaming through the curtains to examine Justin’s dick up close as he mapped it with his tongue. Justin helpfully spread his legs wider. His balls tasted better than his cock, though JC was never going to tell Justin that. He almost put his tongue lower, but he didn’t know if Justin was okay with that, and he didn’t feel like asking. 

Justin’s cell phone started ringing, dancing across JC’s night table and nearly plunging to the carpet before Justin caught it, one-handed and without looking. JC smiled around Justin’s cock when Justin barked, " _what_? I thought we resolved this shit, man." There was a pause and then an indignant, "no, dickhead, I am not having sex while I’m talking on the phone to you." 

JC licked his tongue very slowly around the crown of Justin’s cock, delighting in the curl of Justin’s toes and the way he tried to swallow his groan. JC bet, if he tried, he could probably deep-throat. He’d never had much of a gag reflex. There was only one way to know for sure. 

"Oh, _shit_ ," Justin yelped, fingers delving deep into the wilds of JC’s sleep-tangled hair. 

JC flattened his tongue further, loosened his throat more, and went a little deeper. He was close enough to Justin’s belly that he could feel the tickle of hair on his nose. When he pulled back, he felt dizzy, but he took another deep breath and swallowed, pulling Justin in deep. 

"Okay, I lied. I am having sex while talking on the phone to you, so goodbye." 

JC lifted up and grinned around the tip of Justin’s cock, and Justin flicked him square in the centre of his forehead. 

"And _you_ , having sex with me while I’m talking on the phone to Chris. You know that shit is _weird_." 

"Fair play," JC murmured, trying hard to look innocent. He batted his eyelashes a little. 

Justin grinned, tracing his thumb across the arcs of JC’s eyebrows. "Make it up to me?" 

"No problem, man," JC said, and opened his mouth, letting Justin’s dick slide back in. 

~~~ 

They fell into a nice routine after that, where it was just assumed they were going home together, whether or not they did the 7-Eleven experience. Less stress that way, which JC needed, and it was _very_ nice to know he was back to getting laid on a regular basis, by a flesh-and-blood guy. Cyber-dudes were fun, but Justin was right about one thing. It could get a little lonely. 

Even when they weren’t fucking, they were having fun. JC helped Justin order some stuff off Amazon.com, a whole bunch of random crap that they had mailed to JC’s aunt Bernie, who was used to receiving stuff for John Smith one-through-five, and passing it onto JC or whichever one of the guys it was meant for. They even had anonymous corporate credit cards. 

JC had hoped having sex regularly would zen him out, but he was still a freak in the studio. His reaction to Chris was the worst, and that just pissed JC off more. It was like he’d turned into an animal, all jealous and territorial. JC _had_ done extended one night stands before, but they had never felt like this before. JC decided to blame Malcolm for making them carpool. 

"So Justin’s got a new boyfriend." 

JC looked up from the bench he was sitting on, having been forced into a timeout by the rest of the guys. Times like this, JC wished he smoked, just so he could use it as an excuse, like he meant to be banished outside so he could sneak a forbidden cigarette. "Does this cat have a name?" 

"They usually do." Lance sat down beside JC and offered him a stick of gum, which JC accepted. Gum had been banned from the studio after the owners had complained about finding gobs of it under the tables, and nobody had ‘fessed up to doing it. "But he hasn’t spilled." 

JC knew Justin’s boyfriend’s name already. It was _Chris_. "As long as J’s happy, man." 

"So happy it’s a huge secret," Lance replied, blowing a bubble then popping it with his teeth. "And Joey knows nothing, and Chris doesn’t know anything except this guy is great in bed, and I can only get so much from eavesdropping. Y’all are getting too tight-lipped about things." 

JC sighed deeply and chewed a little more fiercely on his gum. 

"I thought you were straight," Lance said quietly. 

Fuck, JC thought, and started choking on the gum, feeling the lump stall in his throat. Lance pounded helpfully on his back until JC held up his hand and gasped out, "man, I’m fine." 

Lance started rubbing gentle circles on his back instead, so JC laid his head down on Lance’s shoulder and wiped his damp eyes on Lance’s shirt. "If it makes you feel any better, Joey and Chris have no idea it’s you. I guess the answer is too easy, or Justin is too good a liar." 

"J’s just helping me out, man. Letting me see if I like being with guys." 

"So this is an ongoing experiment?" 

"Yeah," JC said glumly, sighing against Lance’s neck. He felt guilty for even having this conversation with Lance, but JC couldn’t seem to stop himself. "Man, I’m sorry I’m doing it now." 

Lance scoffed, lifting his hand from JC’s back and using it to knock on the top of JC’s head instead. "I am so over you, Chasez, don’t flatter yourself." JC looked up and found Lance grinning, all shark-teeth and bright green eyes. "I knew you weren’t ready for experimenting." 

"Man, I don’t think I’m ready _now_ ," JC admitted, almost giddy with relief. It felt good, he was surprised to discover, to talk to someone about sleeping with Justin. Bragging rights aside, JC had a storm of internalised angst stirring in his belly, and it was messing with his humours, which were very important for his continued well-being, or so the History Channel had told him. 

Sometimes, JC wondered if he should get a life and stop watching specials on things like medieval medicine that were only ever shown at, like, four o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday. 

"You know, I think I’d be a lot happier if I was sleeping with Justin Timberlake." 

"Man, he’d probably sleep with you, too, if you asked." 

Lance snorted. 

JC’s half-hour timeout was almost over, but he was a little reluctant to go back inside. His mood was volatile, like a volcano on the cusp of explosion, and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to be a one-man John, Paul and Yoko triangle of badness and breakups and egomania. 

"I should just go back to having chat-sex," JC muttered, bitterly. 

"Oh, please, god, _no_ ," Lance blurted out. 

For the first time that day, JC laughed and felt it deep down in his bones. 

~~~ 

That same night, JC stopped at the 7-Eleven on the way back to Justin’s house. There was nothing a Slurpee the size of Lance’s head couldn’t cure. JC mixed every flavour they had then decided on a blue straw. Justin was up front talking to Dwayne and Maddy, and eating one of those bizarre taco/burrito things that JC had tried only once, which had been one time too many. 

"This taquito is fucking fantastic, C." Justin poked it at JC’s lips. "Here, have a bite." 

JC figured, if he could get used to the taste of come, he could eat another taquito, even if he definitely preferred the former. Still, unwilling to insult Maddy or Dwayne, JC politely took a small nibble and chewed. It probably would have tasted worse if JC had kept it in his mouth until he could spit it out without being seen, which was what JC told himself as he swallowed. 

When Justin leaned on the counter and asked, "so what’s in these things," JC took a detour down the miscellaneous crap aisle. There were cans of cat food with faded labels and a package of instant potatoes that looked to be from the late 70's. Four kinds of sugar, which JC thought was a little overkill for a 7-Eleven, and ten-dollar-bottles of minty Listerine mouthwash. 

Condoms, too. JC picked up one of the boxes and started reading the back, trying to block out Justin’s enthusiastic comments about the range of the 7-Eleven cuisine. Idly, JC sipped at his Slurpee, the straw held lightly between his teeth. He was on the Mountain Dew level. 

"I have a shitload of those at home." 

JC fumbled the box, but Justin caught it before it fell. 

"I do that," Justin said, "if that’s what you’re wondering." 

JC sucked more intently at his Slurpee, keeping his eyes down. Just thinking about that was too much, and there was no picture at all in JC’s usually vivid imagination, just a whole bunch of hot, shaky feelings in the pit of his stomach. "I wasn’t wondering anything, J." 

"Someday," Justin murmured, "I’m gonna figure out what’s going on in your head." 

JC smiled weakly. "Tell me, when you do?" 

"I’ll email you," Justin said, grinning. 

~~~ 

Chris brought Malcolm to the studio at the end of the week. Malcolm offered a box of fresh-baked donuts as bribery to get himself into the forbidden land of the recording booth, which JC didn’t mind at all. His stomach rumbled like a mid-summer thunderstorm. Justin had woken him up with a blowjob, which had led to mutual masturbation, which had led back to a blowjob, from Justin, and a rimjob, to Justin. JC marked that experience in the "yay" column. 

JC wanted to dislike Malcolm, but it was impossible to dislike someone he barely knew. Chris had the best taste in people, as friends and lovers, and JC suspected Malcolm was no exception, but JC didn’t know what to say him other than, "Chris is gonna break your heart just like Justin’s gonna break mine." So JC just didn’t talk to him, but it was hard, especially after Malcolm made him a cup of tea using actual tea leaves and added just the right amount of cream. 

"They’re holding hands under the table," Joey hissed in his ear while JC sat at the board, fiddling with Justin and Lance’s vocals as they warbled in the sound-proof recording room. Justin had taken Lance under his wing, trying to help Lance sculpt his songs into masterpieces. 

"No, no, don’t look," Joey added when JC turned his head, yanking on JC’s arm until JC looked back, "just trust me. They are _holding_ _hands_ , C, under the fucking table, _secretively_." 

"And Chris is sitting still long enough?" 

"Exactly," Joey whispered. 

JC caught them having sex in the utility closet, which JC had spent ten minutes trying to find. He needed to mop up the tea he had spilled when he had knocked his mug off the table. There had been a moment of shocked silence before Chris and Malcolm had started laughing. 

"I think this is it for him," Justin said, later, coming up behind JC as he watched Malcolm and Chris laugh. They were still holding hands, but openly now, where everyone could see. Chris, who had always said public displays of affection gave him the creeps. "Don’t you think so?" 

"I don’t know," JC admitted, even though the evidence was pretty compelling. 

Justin sighed. His fingers dipped into the hair at the nape of JC’s neck and started stroking through his curls. It was nothing that Justin hadn’t done countless times before, but this time, it felt like they were having sex in front of their friends. Idly, JC tried to shake him off. 

"Cut it out, J." 

"Hmm?" 

"Nothing," JC muttered, because there was no use fighting it. 

No use fighting _Justin_ , even though JC knew he should. 

~~~ 

"I’ve got a surprise," Justin said, covering JC’s eyes with his palm. It was nice of him to wait until JC had shut down his computer for the night, after sending off another round of excuses. He didn’t want to burn any bridges. When this thing with Justin went to shit and Justin returned to his predestined soul-mate, JC was at least going to have outlets left to return to. 

"You’re making me nervous, J." 

"Shh," Justin replied, "just walk and don’t question shit, all right. You’ll like this." 

Asking JC to trust anyone was usually like asking him if he wanted to give blood, but with the guys, it had always been different. He trusted them all implicitly, always had and always would. It was a little mean of Justin to exploit that, JC thought, but he wasn’t really mad. 

Beneath JC’s bare feet, the floor changed from the plush carpet to cool ceramic tile. The bathroom, which had the overly warm feel of sunshine and smelled like the ocean. JC stayed perfectly still as Justin slowly undressed him. Once JC was naked, Justin pushed at him again. 

"Careful," Justin warned, his fingers firm beneath JC’s knee as Justin encouraged him to step up. The tips of JC’s toes settled lightly into water, floating like clouds. "It might be too hot." 

"It’s not." JC teetered unsteadily until his foot hit bottom. "Can I open my eyes now?" 

"Not yet." 

The water smelled like the ocean, JC realised as he inhaled deeply, exactly like the mornings, back in LA, when he’d wake up and eat his breakfast out on his balcony, overlooking the ocean. Justin used to come over all the time, inviting himself for bagels and herbal tea. Those good old days, when Justin had loved Britney keenly, and hadn’t been so falsely available. 

Surprised, JC thought, _have I wanted him that long_? 

This _thing_ felt more recent than that, but Britney had been three girlfriends ago, which meant years in Justin-time, who wanted forever and never seemed to get it. JC wasn’t like that. Forever didn’t exist, not for him. The body count of jaded exes he left behind proved that much. 

"Open your eyes," Justin whispered. JC didn’t want to, but did it anyway. 

The room was lit like a coastal sunrise, the vibrant oranges and yellows echoing off the walls, which JC had done in a serene cerulean blue. There were hundreds of candles, glowing. The water JC stood in, which came just above his knees, was too pure and clear to be tap water. 

"J," his voice was embarrassingly shaky, "is this .... what is this, man?" 

"Can you believe people sell water from the Pacific Ocean? It comes in giant bottles, and it cost a fucking mint. I’m not even sure it’s legal, to tell you the truth. I found it online, man, with Lance’s help. And hey, you can sit down," Justin added, sitting down on the edge of the tub, naked and beautiful. "I’d climb in and join you, but it’s your gift and all. Maybe you don’t ..." 

"You can," JC said quickly. "I mean, there’s plenty of room, and even more water." 

"You have a very big bathtub," Justin agreed, sliding in. The surface barely rippled. 

It _was_ a very big bathtub, because JC had always loved taking baths, and he never spared expense on the things he loved. As a result, he had a kick ass studio and a lovely bathtub, and not much else in his house beyond the bare necessities of beds, couches and refrigerators. 

It was the nicest thing anybody had done for JC in a long time, and he smiled shyly at Justin when Justin caught him sniffing the drops of water on his fingers. When Justin tapped as his shoulder, JC turned around and relaxed into his firm hands as they kneaded his shoulders. 

"Shit, you are _so_ tense," Justin murmured, pressing down hard with his thumbs. 

"Mmm," JC hummed. 

Truer words had never been spoken. 

~~~ 

JC didn’t mean to be a control freak about everything. It just happened. It didn’t help that whenever he started getting bossy or pissy or whatever, Chris started singing tracks from _Let_ _It_ _Be_. It didn’t even matter if JC was going psycho on one of the other guys, Chris still intervened. 

If it was anyone else, JC would have ignored it, would have been able to let it go. 

But it was Chris. 

"Oh my _god_ ," JC finally said, throwing his hands in the air the instant Chris began to warble the beginning of ‘The Long And Winding Road.’ JC hadn’t even really been doing anything but grunting impatiently at Joey, but the stress of loving Justin and realising that Justin was never going to love him back had finally gotten to him. How _dare_ Chris make it worse. 

" _Abbey_ _Road_ was the last album they recorded, Chris. Even you aren’t that stupid." 

"Yeah, I know that, but _Let_ _It_ _Be_ was the beginning of the end, you anal retentive freak." 

"And they did release it last," Justin added idly, and he _would_ side with Chris, _of_ _course_ he would. Justin and Chris till the very end, and JC, who would die alone in his oversized tub. 

"We’re never going to get this done if we don’t take it seriously," JC gritted out. 

"We are taking it seriously," Chris snapped back. Another minute of this, and they were going to have to take it outside, where JC would then lose, quickly and painfully. Thankfully, Joey stepped between them, grabbing Chris by the ear and JC by the curls. He shook them a little. 

"Cut it out, you boneheads. This is, like, our _Rubber_ _Soul_." 

"Right on, my brother." Justin raised his fist and elbowed Lance until Lance did it, too. 

JC felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. At his sides, his fingers clenched into fists, but they unknotted the moment Joey’s hand folded over his shoulder and squeezed, and Joey’s voice, which JC had always loved, cut through the shit with a quiet, 

"Me and C are taking a break, okay? If you dickheads want to work on Lance’s songs while we’re gone, go ahead." 

"Will do, fuckface," Chris replied sweetly, dodging the swat of Justin’s hand. 

~~~ 

JC was bullied into Joey’s car, but he didn’t really fight it. He loved Joey’s car, with its raging sea of CDs without cases and random books about Egypt and comfortable old sweatshirts. JC grabbed one, a red hoodie with a hole in the sleeve, and pulled it on. It still smelled like Joey. 

Joey pulled into the 7-Eleven. "Go in and get a Slurpee, and then we have to talk." 

"I didn’t bring my wallet," JC replied, inwardly pleased when Joey sighed and started searching in the ashtray for change. Joey pulled out a crumpled dollar bill and a couple of dimes. "Dude, I’m gonna need more than that if I’m gonna get two. I’ll mix it up well for you, Joe." 

"Fuck," Joey said, lifting up and pulling out his wallet from his back pocket, "get me a taquito, too, will you?" 

Once the crisp ten dollar bill was in his hand, JC nodded. No accounting for taste, he supposed, but it was Joey’s coin. JC pulled the hood up over his head and ventured outside, safely making it through the group of teenage boys loitering by the air pumps, smoking. 

Inside, things seemed wildly different. JC didn’t recognise the people at the counter, and the aisles were filled to the brim with actual _people_. There was even a guy looking at the sugar. JC quickly filled two of the largest cups with Slurpee, mixing all the flavours, then got a taquito. The grease had already bled through the wax paper it was wrapped in. JC’s stomach churned. 

He paid in full, which was something he hadn’t done in months, and left. Navigated through the swarm of teenaged boys, then climbed back into Joey’s car. JC smiled a little, but Joey didn’t smile back. JC didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to talk to _anyone_ ever again. 

JC sipped on his Slurpee as Joey drove. They didn’t speak to each other. 

~~~ 

"Okay, spill," Joey said, after they had parked and sat around a while. "What’s up, C?" 

"Nothing," JC muttered, sucking a little harder on his straw. 

"Bzzt. Wrong answer, dude. Try again." 

JC sighed then shrugged, shifting his eyes away from Joey’s dashboard and to the outside world, which seemed so much uglier in the bright light of day. How long had they been waiting, he wondered, for the perfect opportunity so Joey could talk to him. Joey obviously had things to say. 

"Listen, I’m just gonna say it straight out, and you can tell me if I’m off base." 

"Okay." 

"If you wanna leave, if being with us and making this album isn’t what you want, we’re not gonna stop being your friends. Okay, maybe Chris will be pissy, but he promised twelve months, tops. But don’t make yourself miserable on our account. We love you more than that." 

"I. What?" JC felt like the hinges of his jaw had come loose. "No, that’s not. _No_ _way_." 

"It sure as hell feels like it, dude, and it’s gotta be something big, because you’ve been fucked up for weeks." Joey’s hand hovered near JC’s shoulder as if to give him a comforting pat, but JC was so far beyond mere comfort. He grabbed Joey’s hand and kissed it, then held it open-palmed, against his face. "You just don’t seem to be enjoying it, and you should be, you know." 

"I am enjoying it," JC insisted. "So much, man, you have no idea, how much I love singing with you cats. Dude, I swear, all this has got nothing to do with that. I know I’ve been psychotic, but I just want it to be good. Because if it’s not ... if it’s not, well. You know." 

"I _don’t_ know, C. That’s the problem. Gimme a fucking clue here, okay?" 

"If this album sucks then what happens, Joe?" Joey opened his mouth, but it was a rhetorical question, so JC bit him lightly on the heel of his hand. "No, man, listen to me. We’re doing it all, right. All the writing, all the music, all the _everything_. So if it sucks then what?" 

"I don’t know, C. I’d kinda like to get the thing done first before worrying about it." 

"And man, we’re never gonna get it done if ..." 

"... if _you_ don’t calm down. We’ve fired people for treating us better than you’ve been doing. It’s only because we like so you so much that Chris hasn’t shoved his foot up your ass." Joey smiled then crooked his fingers, tickling over JC’s cheek with his fingertips. "Relax, C." 

"I don’t think I can," JC admitted, his eyes burning with the heat of his shame. He blinked rapidly, trying to fight everything back, but he couldn’t stop the storm. JC hated crying. It was something he reserved for special occasions, like the end of a tour or the death of a pet. 

"Aw, C. C’mon, dude, it’s okay." Joey patted him on the back, but it wasn’t enough. JC climbed across the car and wrapped himself around Joey, sniffling into his ear. Joey answered with his own sniffle, squeezing JC so tight that JC thought he would burst. "We’re not mad, I swear. They just wanted me to talk to you, before it got any worse. Hey, you want my sleeve?" 

"Yes, please." With the edge of Joey’s tee-shirt, JC dried his eyes. "There’s other stuff." 

"Hit me up, then. Might as well hear it all." 

"Me and J, we’ve been sleeping together. For weeks, Joe, and it’s been so good." 

"And we’re crying over this?" Joey asked, sounding incredulous. JC didn’t know what was weirder, that he was crying over Justin or that Joey was crying with him over Justin, but Joey had a point. When put in perspective, it was stupid, but knowing that made nothing better. 

"I’m just a stand in," JC said glumly, "for Chris." 

Joey blinked. "Kirkpatrick? Chris and Justin are sleeping together, too? What about Malcolm? Because, fuck, I really love that guy. I wish you guys would stop dating cool people. I get attached and then it all goes to shit. You all need to take an example from me and Kel." 

"Chris and _Justin_ need to take an example from you and Kelly. And they’re not sleeping together. Chris and Justin, I mean, not either of them with Kelly," JC added quickly, chewing on tie of the hoodie, "unless you’re into that. Justin seems very helpful about these sorts of things." 

"Does J know you’re pimping him out? First Chris, then Kelly. Who’s next, dude?" 

"Lance," JC muttered, shrinking deeper into Joey’s sweatshirt. 

Joey smiled. "C, I don’t think Chris and Justin are together. Or that they even want to be. Don’t you think they’d be together by now? I mean, J’s been legal for a while, and Chris has been on the prowl for a suitable match since he turned thirty, and he sure ain’t thirty no more." 

"They just don’t know," JC insisted, "how much they love each other." 

"Maybe," Joey said, his mouth twisted up suspiciously. 

"Maybe," JC echoed, without any layer of doubt over him. 

JC knew it was true. 

~~~ 

JC apologised for acting psycho the second Joey pushed him into the studio. Well, maybe not the second, but within the first five minutes, after that awkward period where he’d stared at his feet had passed. They all accepted it with a group hug that quickly turned dirty. When Chris slapped him on the ass, JC knew he’d been forgiven and didn’t really mind how much it stung. 

"Are you mad at me?" Justin asked quietly, later, when Joey and Lance had left to pick up Taco Bell and Chris had gone to phone Malcolm, heavily insinuating he was gonna be having phone sex in the bathroom. So they, him and J, were left alone in the studio. "You were kinda ..." 

"Man, I know," JC said. "And I’m not mad. Well, maybe a little. I mean, c’mon, J." 

Justin cracked a small smile, his fingers walking across JC’s shoulders before his arm slid over the same path. "C, the only explanation I could have given them was that maybe us fucking was the problem, and I seem to remember you swearing me secrecy. And you _have_ been weird." 

"You still haven’t told Chris," JC said flatly. 

Justin narrowed his eyes. "You asked me not to. I’d tell him in a heartbeat otherwise." 

It was fair, in the grand scheme of things, to let Chris in on the secret, especially with Joey and Lance already in the know, but JC was a little afraid of Chris’s fist and even more terrified of having to give Justin away so soon, before he had been able to stockpile on Justin, and how it felt to be with him. Not just the sex, either. JC had been single for two long years. 

There were a hundred things to say, but JC’s mouth settled on the wise, "let’s make out, man." 

Justin pinched his lips together disdainfully, then opened his mouth. JC wished Justin had learned how to let things go, but Chris and Justin were too much alike that way, always had been. JC fit his mouth against Justin’s protest, sliding a quick tongue inside to wash it away. 

"C, you can’t always," Justin said between kisses, "get out of talking," he put his hand on JC’s shoulder and pulled him forward until they were horizontal on the couch, "by putting the moves on me," Justin hooked his leg across the back of JC’s thighs, "even though it works." 

"You," JC slid his hand under Justin’s shirt, "should stop trying to make me talk," he nipped lightly at Justin’s lower lip, "when I don’t want to," JC kissed him again, deeply, "okay?" 

They were well on their way to heavy petting, or way far past it, if furiously rubbing their groins together as they tongue-fucked counted, when the door to the studio slammed. JC jumped off the couch, knocking over a speaker, and landed hard on his ass. Joey and Lance stared at him. 

"C thought he’d lost a filling," Justin blurted. There was a stain on the front of his pants. 

Joey grinned. "And you were helpfully trying to assist him in finding it. My, what a nice friend you are, Justin." 

"But funny," Lance added slyly, "Dental Hygiene Lad over there has never had a cavity." 

JC sighed. "They already know, J, about ... about what we’ve been doing. Sorry, man." 

"And Chris doesn’t," Justin said, slapping a hand against his forehead. It was hard enough that the skin was pink when Justin pried his palm off to point an accusing finger. "C, for fuck’s sake, he is going to kill me _dead_ when he finds out. He’s never going to speak to me again!" 

"Don’t be so melodramatic," JC murmured. His eyes were glued to Justin’s damp groin. 

"And hey, what are you staring at?" Justin asked then looked down. His arm shot out like a rattlesnake, and he hauled a battered copy of Rolling Stone over his lap. The Strokes were on the cover. "This is so fucking messed up ... and Chris is having phone sex in the only bathroom!" 

"You can’t tell him," JC insisted, ignoring Joey and Lance’s withering glances, "not yet." 

"Why?" Justin asked, wearily. 

"Because." JC wanted to bodily carry Joey and Lance out of the room, just to escape their twin masks of obvious disagreement, but what did they know, anyway? "It’s not the right time. Please, J, you know I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t have good reasons. Just wait a little while." 

"Fine," Justin said harshly, standing up and brushing at the fabric by his groin, "whatever, okay, but does anyone have an extra pair of pants? I seem to have fucking _creamed_ mine." 

JC had the good sense to feel very, very guilty. 

~~~ 

By the end of the night, JC was bone-tired. Justin was pissed at him and also grumpy that Lance’s pants were too short for him, which Chris kept teasing him about. Joey and Lance had united in silent support of Justin’s anger. Ironically, Chris was still talking to him, seemingly oblivious to the underlying tension. No wonder, JC thought. Phone-sex made him happy, too. 

JC thought about seeing if he could get a ride from Chris and Malcolm, but the thought of abandoning Justin and their well-established carpool routine was unbearable, and unforgivable. This happened from time to time, between them, stupid fights about stupid things, and they never lasted very long. They were too used to each other’s neuroses to stay seething mad for very long. 

"Is your reason for not telling Chris _really_ good?" Justin asked, finally, when they were sitting in Justin’s driveway, with a tray of nachos between them and a Super Big Gulp filled with vanilla flavouring and orange soda. At least Justin hadn’t driven him home. That was good. "C, you’re asking me to do something I wouldn’t do for Britney, wouldn’t even do for my _mom_." 

"I think it’s good," JC offered with a helpless shrug, "but you know me, man." 

"I do." Justin grabbed the Super Big Gulp. "Hey, c’mon. I’m sick of my car, and Aunt Bernie delivered that Amazon.com order you helped me with. Movies, C. Nice, relaxing movies that don’t expect anything of us except maybe mindless attention, and that is so easily done." 

JC followed Justin inside then climbed onto Justin’s couch, crossing his legs. With the Super Big Gulp in one hand, Justin fiddled with the DVD player until the picture jumped onto the screen. Justin always seemed surprised when he mastered technology. It made JC smile. 

They kept the nachos between them until the tray was empty save for a few crumbs and some crusty old cheese. Justin moved it out of the way and inched closer, so they could share the Super Big Gulp before all the ice melted. JC tried to keep his eyes on the tv instead of the pulse of Justin’s lips as he sucked, but he wasn’t that strong, and they were so mesmerising. 

When their slurping produced nothing but hollow echoes, Justin took the empty cup and the nacho tray into the kitchen, dimming the lights as he came back into the room. JC had spent the minute in between trying to figure out which movie they were watching, but the moment Justin sat down again, all thoughts flew from JC’s head. Justin looked at him, head tilted, quiet. 

"What?" JC finally asked, walking his fingers around his chin, looking for cheese. 

"Do you mind, if maybe." Justin flapped his hand, making vague charade-like gestures. Somebody really had to tell him that _nobody_ ever got what he was trying to say when he did that. JC lifted his eyebrows and Justin sighed. "I’d like to, you know, lie against you while we watch." 

"But I don’t have anything on my face?" 

Justin smiled. "Uh, no. Anyway, I’d probably lick it off if you did." 

JC refused to let Justin’s leer fluster him, but it did make him want to take off his clothes. 

Justin hooked his thumbs into the pockets of Lance’s jeans, kicking at the carpet. "So?" 

"Okay, man." 

It took them a few minutes to find a comfortable position where JC could breathe without needing an oxygen tank and Justin wasn’t being poked by JC’s various boney parts. Still, they found it, with Justin’s head resting on JC’s shoulder, his body resting half over JC’s torso. Their legs tangled into a neat knot, hooked at the ankles. JC kept a hand on Justin’s back, firmly. 

When JC woke up, a sliver of bright sunlight cut across his eyes, and Justin was still on him, a little puddle of drool on JC’s shirt where Justin’s mouth was open and mumbling. JC had to take a vicious piss, the Super Big Gulp resting uncomfortably in his bladder, but he supposed he could wait if it meant he had this quiet moment with Justin where everything seemed fine. 

~~~ 

They finished two songs in one day, and JC had to excuse himself to cry in the bathroom, from relief. When he came back, there was beer, and laughter, and dancing. Lance still poked his fingers in his ears whenever his haunting song about Russia replayed, but JC thought it was just the type of stripped down production they needed. It was done completely a capella. 

The other song was one Chris and Justin had written together, and it was on the other end of the spectrum, so far out there that it gave JC the happy shivers he got when he was turned on. Chris sounded out of this world as Lance rumbled like a storm, and Joey stitched them together, but what got to JC the most was him and Justin, and how it sounded like they were having sex. 

"Uh," Joey said on first listen, scratching his chin. "That’s really, uh ... that’s really something, guys. I really like the way Chris’s voice, uh, screeches like that. Very accurate." 

They settled down after a while, sprawled on the big couches as they listened to their two masterpieces. There were still little things to be worked out, lines that didn’t quite work, obvious places where the instrumentation lagged a little, but as a whole, they worked, and very, very well. 

"I have a hard on," Justin whispered in JC’s ear, during the tenth replay of his and Chris’s song, grinning like a shark. His voice was warm and teasing, and it slithered down JC’s back. 

JC pinched him, and Justin backed off, grinning. 

"I suppose the gay orgy vibe in our songs was almost inevitable," Chris said slowly, back to circling the room, which was driving JC _nuts_ , but JC had learned long ago that asking Chris to sit down when he was nervous or excited was like asking a brick wall if it minded stepping aside so he could get around it, please and thanks, "but shit, guys, it was supposed to be about _horses_." 

"Fuck off." Lance rolled his eyes. "Will y’all please get over that? I said it _six years ago_." 

"Stupidity lasts forever, Bass. Deal with it." 

While Lance and Chris bickered like an old married couple, Justin took hold of JC’s hand and slid it into his lap. Whoa, hello, yes, JC thought, his eyes going wide. Across the room, Joey was watching them suspiciously, but JC’s hand was completely obscured by Justin’s leather coat. 

JC didn’t move, barely even breathed. The point wasn’t to get Justin off, and he understood that. What the point _was_ , well, JC wasn’t quite sure, but the feel of Justin’s dick, hot and hard and fitting perfectly into the arc of JC’s palm, was still thrilling to him. It wasn’t like JC had never held a dick before. He’d held his own, thousands of times at least, but. _Justin_. 

It was intimate like the best of kisses, but secretive, too. While Joey obviously suspected, he couldn’t _know_ , not for sure. And Chris, who didn’t know at all, wouldn’t even think about JC’s hand. Would Lance look over and see the flush on Justin’s cheeks and get it immediately? 

"Hey," Chris said, and JC looked up sharply. "If you two assholes move over, I might be able to fit my fat ass on that couch, too. Stop hogging, okay? Those desk chairs kill my back." 

They could have gone left or right, together, but Justin went left, and JC went right, and then Chris was between them, trying to bribe Joey into paying for celebratory pizza. Again with the celebratory pizza. Chris was a freak, worse than him, but maybe Justin liked them like that. 

~~~ 

JC supposed, with all the practice, that he was actually getting pretty good at guy-sex. He still had his moments, where he scratched Justin with his teeth and went red and could hardly look him in the eyes, but most of the time, JC was fine. Justin seemed to enjoy it a lot, anyway. 

"I’m really glad you decided to try this _thing_ , this exploring your sexuality with me," Justin said one night, trailing his fingers up and down the length of JC’s spine. They had come home, and barely gotten through the door before they’d been tearing each other’s clothes off, rutting like wild animals. They were recovering on Justin’s bed. "I didn’t know what to expect." 

"I like it," JC admitted, "more than I thought I would." He meant it in all sorts of ways. 

"Are you going to keep with it, then?" 

Justin’s voice had a shaky edge to it, and JC looked up from the comfortable cocoon of his arms. It was impossible to pull meaning from the straight line of Justin’s mouth. JC shrugged. "Man, if anyone online is still talking to me, I want to. I kinda, well ... stopped with the emails." 

"Oh," Justin said, the flat of his palm curving around the rise of JC’s naked ass. 

JC couldn’t tell him that he’d stopped because it had begun to feel like cheating, seeing pictures of other guy’s dicks and making vague promises of future chat-sex dates, and cheating wasn’t something Justin forgave. It didn’t matter if they weren’t, like, serious. It still _felt_ wrong. 

"C, if I ask you to do something for me?" Justin’s hand tightened on JC’s left buttock. JC glanced down briefly. Floundering was more JC’s speciality. Seeing Justin do it was _weird_. "I mean, I kinda asked before, but I don’t if you weren’t interested, or if it was the setting." 

"Anything, J," JC said, without hesitation. 

"I would really like it if you’d fuck me, if you’re into that. Even a little," Justin added breathlessly. It was really bizarre, watching Justin act like this. Comfortingly, JC put his hand on Justin’s shoulder and nodded. Justin smiled in relief, leaning forward. "All right! Awesome!" 

Justin sprang off the bed, zipping into the bathroom, and JC buried his head in the pillow. He knew they shouldn’t have skipped 7-Eleven on the way home. With full bellies, they were always a little more lazy, a lot more content with a quick handjob or a blowjob. They’d finished another song, one of JC’s this time that Joey had actually helped him with a little, so they both had energy to burn. When Justin came back, JC tried to look excited instead of really nervous. 

"I’m no Chris," Justin said, "so I can’t do it on my back, or else it gets fucked up." 

"Okay," JC said slowly. It wasn’t fair, he thought, that Justin mentioned Chris so often. 

"I prefer being on my belly, but I can do the riding you thing. I mean, personal preference, right? Beggars can’t be choosers. Shit like that," Justin said, and if JC didn’t know better, he’d think Justin was actually babbling, but that didn’t make sense. Justin Timberlake didn’t babble. 

"J, man," JC laid his fingers over Justin’s flapping lips, "whatever you want, I’ll do." 

"Woo," Justin said, and kissed JC on the mouth. 

~~~ 

JC was briefly distracted by the pink of Justin’s wet lips, leaning up to devour them with his month and tongue. Justin, lean and lank beneath him, paused on his side, and gave up trying to turn over for a bit, his face twisted in concentration as he returned JC’s frenetic kisses. 

It probably looked like JC was stalling for time, which he was. JC had been talking about giving head, albeit to strangers on the internet, months before he did it. _This_ had not been discussed. _This_ had not even entered into JC’s head, which proved how messed up a place it really was. All Chris had talked about for the past six months was how well Malcolm fucked. 

"Do it, do it," Justin chanted desperately, pushing his ass at JC’s thigh, rubbing all over. 

JC ripped the condom open with his teeth, blanching at the taste of lube as it speckled across his tongue. He dropped the first one on the carpet. When he picked it up, it was covered with light and dark hair, and had a sticker from a Chichita banana glued to it. That one went straight into the garbage. The second one stayed on, but then JC squirted lube on the bedspread. 

Justin moaned a little more desperately, but also rolled his eyes. 

Fingers, JC thought, but couldn’t remember the exact rules. It wasn’t like Justin was a guy-virgin, though, so maybe the rules didn’t really apply. From the look of Justin’s cock, it didn’t seem like he needed the added stimulus, or they’d never actually get to the fuck-in-the-ass thing. 

"Just push it in," Justin instructed bossily, which was at least familiar. Typical Justin, but his voice softened to cotton on the rest of the comment. "But slow, okay? It’s been a while." 

At the first careful nudge, JC’s dick veered off towards Justin’s thigh, and he laughed shakily, grabbing his cock at the base way too hard. "Man, I think I’m having flashbacks here." 

Justin looked back over his shoulder. "Mary Anne Miller?" 

"Yeah," JC murmured, poking his dick at Justin’s ass, watching the muscle expand. 

"Well, for one, I’ve definitely done this before, and for two, C, get the hell over it." 

And with that, Justin kinda pushed back, and JC kinda fell forward, and it all came together in a neat little tab A slot B type of way. There were stars, then, behind JC’s eyelids, and he knew his next solo album was going to be filled with gay subtext and songs about anal sex. 

And Justin, JC thought later, feeling clingy and desperate and completely in love. 

There would be songs about Justin, _yes_. 

~~~ 

It was a little sad, the way history repeated itself. JC walked around, convinced everybody could tell he’d just had sex for the first time. And it was the first time, in enough ways that it counted. JC hadn’t actually ever had anal sex before, which Justin truly hadn’t believed at first. 

"You’ve done _everything_ ," Justin had said. "Shit. You were, like, my idol for _years_ , C." 

JC had shrugged. "Man, it seemed impolite to ask a lady for it, and no one ever offered." 

His mom phoned the next night, and he couldn’t even talk to her. Instead, Justin chatted happily for ten minutes. It was like he’d had fumbling bad sex with Mary Anne again, and he was convinced his mother would just _know_ , like she’d known back then, if he said too much. 

Lance knew right away, but Joey didn’t, so that was something. Chris was distracted by his own well-fucked state, eager to tell everyone about the fantastic hot tub sex he and Malcolm had. JC made a mental note never to go to Chris’s house again, since they had sex _everywhere_ , and Chris was just the type of guy who would not wipe down his kitchen table afterwards. 

"For a guy whose attention span is almost as short as Chris’s, this experiment is lasting pretty long," Lance said quietly as Joey pounded on the drums, and Chris and Justin square-danced around him. With all the noise, Lance had to repeat himself twice before JC heard him. 

"Man, I’m in it for the complete experience. There are lots of things to do with guy-sex." 

"Oh, really," Lance said wryly, his freakishly arched eyebrows lifting even higher. 

"Well, I’m sure you know," JC added, crossing his arms over his chest, "being very gay." 

Lance nodded, that sardonic smile still dancing over his lips. He hooked a finger into the vee of JC’s elbow, tugging him out of the room and outside into the settling dusk. A smoke break, without the smoking, substituted by a stick of Wrigley’s spearmint gum. It didn’t compare. 

"Listen, if you want Justin for more than just fantastically athletic screwing, _tell_ _him_." 

JC chewed a little more fiercely and only stopped when he bit his tongue. The metallic taste of blood spilled into his mouth. JC spit his wad of gum into the grass. "Dude, it’s not that easy. There are, like, extenuating circumstances that you aren’t aware of. He wouldn’t say yes." 

"Justin and Chris have never been involved, aren’t involved now, and will never be involved," Lance said. "Trust me, I know. Every boyfriend I’ve had has dumped me for cheating on them. With Joey, JC. _Joey Fatone_." There was a method to Lance’s sudden madness, JC discovered, when Lance shrugged and added, "you’re confusing best-friendliness with sex-love." 

"Maybe you _are_ in love with Joey," JC said wearily. He was sick to death of the same old song. It was like having to do Tearing Up My Heart in concert every damn time, but even more annoying, if that was at all possible. The sooner they could skip over that one, the better. 

"Forgive me, but I’m going to sound like Chris for a second: stop being a fucking wimp!" 

It didn’t have the same effect, coming from Lance, but JC got the point like a pencil in the eye. He wished he hadn’t spit out his gum. It would have been nice to have something to take out his frustration on. Lamely, JC muttered, "I’m not a wimp, man. I’m just being ... _realistic_." 

"Wimp," Lance said simply. 

By the time Chris came out looking for them, they’d regressed to Lance saying "wimp wimp wimp" over and over again, and JC sitting there, shaking his head. They weren’t even being quiet about it. Well, Lance, anyway. Chris looked at Lance, then at JC, and shrugged. 

"Whatever," Chris said. "I’m not even gonna ask because I don’t want to know, but I will say how un-fucking-natural it is to hear that word come out of Bass’s cock-loving mouth. Anyway, Joey says he found the magical ingredient for your song, C, and it’s so fucking _cool_. I tell you, man, you and Joe need to become one of those song-writing duos. That would rock." 

Lance whispered one final "wimp" in the hall, and that was that. 

But unfortunately, not really. 

~~~ 

"So Lance says there’s something you want to ask me." 

"Lance is a liar," JC said simply. And Lance was, kinda, in a not-very-liar way at all. 

Justin shrugged, feet spread apart on the ground, his hands out. "He seemed pretty insistent, C. Like, he even told me you were going to call him a liar when I asked you about it." 

Fucking Lance, JC thought grimly, dribbling the basketball, trying to plot a course around Justin. Any route was going to end with the ball in Justin’s eager hands anyway, but JC liked pretending he stood a chance. Salty sweat dripped into his eyes. Outwitting Justin was hard work. 

"You might as well just tell me," Justin said, smirking. "You suck with secrets, C." 

"No," JC said, because he refused to suck this time. For once, he was going to keep quiet. 

Justin was still talking, JC noticed, right up until the puzzled "C?" And JC plowed right over him, sending them both to the grass. The ball bounced away into Justin’s display of metal garbage cans. JC winced as they tumbled noisily over. It was three o’clock in the morning. 

Justin’s eyes were wide open, dazed. " _Jesus_. You and Chris play the same shitty way." 

JC’s forehead was bleeding. He’d scraped it on a rock going down, and he only hoped it wasn’t deep enough to leave a scar. He sat up, and tried to bat away Justin’s concerned touch, and failed. With one of the sweaty white towels Justin had grabbed from the bathroom, the type of towels JC’s mother would have locked up behind glass, Justin started dabbing at JC’s brow. 

Justin frowned, deep in concentration. "That never works, C. I’m too steady on my feet." 

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," JC mumbled, which was the story of his life. 

"Eh," Justin said, jumping to his feet and brushing the grass off his green knees, "no harm, no foul. Like I said, you aren’t the only one who’s tried that." Justin grabbed the ball then cocked his hips, a smirk dancing onto his lips. "One-on-one. I win, you tell. You win, you don’t." 

"Man, that doesn’t seem like a fair deal. I haven’t won against you in years." 

"Yeah, but shit, C, you have a stubborn streak a mile wide. You’ll give it your best just to avoid telling me this huge secret of yours. Here," Justin tossed the ball quick as lightning in JC’s direction, and JC caught it, barely, "I’ll even let you start. So what do you say, C? You game?" 

JC was going to lose, but Justin had given him an excuse to just _ask him_ already and get it over with, which was something JC seemed unable to do on his own. Sometimes, JC wondered _why_ he couldn’t just take risks without the entire world pushing him along. Everybody else did. 

They were already shirtless, and good thing, too. Five minutes in, JC had an ocean of sweat running down him. Justin was in a similar predicament, his skin glowing rosily under the glow of his garage lights. It highlighted every ridge and rise of muscle, his well-defined chest, the vee of muscle that disappeared into his low-slung shorts, the ripple of his rock-hard belly. 

Fuck basketball, JC wanted to fuck _Justin_ , right there, on his basketball court. 

"J," JC said in a strange shaky voice that couldn’t be his own. With shaking hands, he made the timeout T, then, at Justin’s inquisitive look, added, "I, uh, man, there’s thing, in your garage, that I just, uh, well, yes." Justin tilted his head. "I need to see it. Yes, now, please, yes." 

"Smooth, C, real smooth," Justin said, later, grinning. It didn’t stop him from pushing at JC’s shorts, getting them as far as JC’s knees before he seemingly gave up. That worked too, JC thought, who had only managed to spread the zipper on Justin’s shorts and slide his hand inside. 

JC tried to wipe the smirk off Justin’s face with his mouth, dipping his tongue between Justin’s wet lips after murmuring, "shut up," and putting his hand on Justin’s slim cock. The best JC had hoped for was that Justin, who often tried to mimic normal, had a workbench in his garage, but the reality was an orange, threadbare couch that JC recognised immediately. 

"Hey, man, is that Chris’s old couch?" 

"Mm-hm," Justin said, without turning to look at it. "Gave it to me, like, three years ago." 

JC had a sudden, horrific vision of Justin and Chris, naked on that couch. It was a couch made for sex. A fuck-couch. Chris had dubbed it that before JC had ever known him and had told JC that after they’d only known each for a day and a half. For one brief insane moment, JC had thought Chris was hitting on him, but that had been a good two years before Chris came out. 

"Hey," Justin said, curling his fingers around JC’s wrist. "Why did you stop?" 

JC tilted his head. "Can we do it on there?" 

"We can do it all over my fucking house, if it’d make you happy," Justin said, all earnest and serious, and that nearly threw JC off his game, but then Justin’s face melted into lust. Like crabs, they waddled sideways to the couch and fell onto it with JC on top, his shorts at his ankles. 

The sun was starting to rise by the time they made it to the court again. Faintly, JC was aware of the flashbulbs and Justin shouting, "hey, fuckers! It’s six o’clock in the morning! Get a real job!" And giving them all the finger. JC only hoped he didn’t look as well fucked as he felt. 

They finished the game, in spite of the audience. JC didn’t know if it was the distraction of the paparazzi or the fact that sex made Justin stupid, but for the first time since September ‘99, when Justin had the flu for a week and had lied about it, JC finally won a game against Justin. 

~~~ 

It was exhausting, sometimes, being JC Chasez. Most days, JC thought he wouldn’t mind being Joey, who was just so low-key, or Lance, who didn’t seem to care when people laughed at him. JC could have even handled being Chris, with his tongue like a whip, or Justin, if JC hadn’t been sleeping with him. Thinking about being Justin made JC want to masturbate. 

Being near Justin when they were in-studio was slowly driving him insane. Where there was Justin, there was Chris, and JC often resorted to grinding his teeth jealously. It was all very lame, he thought, bitterly. But JC didn’t stop, because he couldn’t, because he wanted Justin. 

JC spent so much time gazing longingly that he had to wear his glasses full-time or else his head started hurting so bad that he was useless when it came to recording. That was the only reason he put them on every morning. The headaches he had gotten had usually ended with his head on Justin’s lap, fingers working gently at his temples, and he hadn’t wanted to give that up. 

Maybe Lance was right, and he _was_ a wimp, but JC had rotten luck. Sometimes, things worked out, but most of the time, the whole thing ended in humiliation and grief, and that wasn’t very good for his humours. All JC wanted was a little peace of mind and a touch of contentment. 

"Hey, C," Joey murmured in his ear, grabbing him from behind and squeezing tight. 

JC tried to pull his gaze away from Justin’s laughing face and failed miserably. 

"Hi, Joe." 

Joey started rocking them back and forth. Soothing, like the waves of the ocean, kinda. 

"Whatcha looking at?" 

"J," JC said simply, because he was, obviously. 

Joey scooped him up by the crotch of his jeans, not squishing his dick and balls too badly, and carried him out of the room with a hollered, "me and C are going for pizza!" JC looped his fingers in Joey’s tee-shirt just in case he slipped, but Joey’s grip stayed firm all the way outside. 

Vaguely, JC remembered Joey saying he used to drive Brianna around in the dead of night as she wailed pitifully with colic. JC suspected the same technique was being used on him, but he didn’t mind too much. Joey was better to talk to, anyway. Lance was way too blunt. 

~~~ 

At the first red light, looking a little bemused, Joey urged JC on with a, "talk, dude." 

JC wrinkled his nose, hating that he was so obvious, but, "I don’t know, Joe. Like, man, don’t you think I’m a little old, to be doing all this stuff now. I mean," he sighed deeply, "most cats figure this stuff out when they’re still kittens. So maybe I was just bored with the ladies." 

Joey snorted, lefthand-turning into the 7-Eleven parking lot. It was nearly midnight, so Maddy and Dwayne were working. JC could see them through the window. It still felt strange, like he and Joey shouldn’t be there, like 7-Eleven and Justin were forever interconnected in JC’s brain. 

Joey turned off the car. "Dude, sex is your livelihood. You think about it more than me, and that’s pretty fucking incredible. My dick would wither and die if I used it as much as you. You aren’t tired of women. You would fuck women forever if you could. You know that, C." 

Reluctantly, JC nodded, but Joey would have to do better than state the obvious. 

"I think," Joey started drumming his fingers on his steering wheel, wearing what Chris called Joey’s _thinking face_ , "that as you get older, sometimes your priorities shift. If I went back in time and asked my-dumbass-self if my-dumbass-self was ever going to settle down and get married, I would have been laughed at. But people change, C. It’s the way of the world." 

"Man, I wasn’t supposed to like it this much," JC admitted, scratching over his eyebrow. 

Joey grinned. "Welcome to real life, C. Shit happens, and people change. So you’re not as straight as you thought you were. So what? _Embrace_ _it, man_. You’re sleeping with one of the hottest guys around, getting laid on a regular basis, and enjoying the ride. Ideal life, dude." 

"But Justin," JC said bleakly, "and Chris." 

Joey shrugged. "I repeat what I said before: I just ain’t seeing it. At all. I mean, by your reasoning, me and Lance are jonesing for each other’s hot bods, and I can tell you, dude, that’s not the case. Me and Lance are a packaged deal, sure, but I’m not boning him, not even thinking about it, and I know he’s not after me either. Lance is, like, my heterosexual life-mate ..." 

"Lance isn’t heterosexual." 

"Yeah, but I am. Mostly," Joey added quickly, which JC widened his eyes at. 

Somehow, picturing Joey getting it on with a guy was very hard to do, even if not fifteen minutes ago, Joey’s hand had been firmly on JC’s dick and yeah, maybe JC had even been a little hard, but that proved nothing about Joey. JC already knew he was super easy to arouse. 

"Oh, I don’t know," Joey admitted. "I think the moral of this story is stop making fucking excuses and just get with J already. Formally, I mean. Buddy-fucking is all fine and dandy, but you want more, and so does he, and you’re both chickenshit for letting it go on like this so long." 

"I’m not making excuses," JC muttered, chewing one of his curls into his mouth. 

"C, I say this out of the kindness of my heart, but fuck off, okay. I know exactly who I’m talking to." Joey’s face took on a sudden sharp edge that JC didn’t like at all. "I’m talking to the guy who voted down _himself_ when it came to picking singles for No Strings and Celebrity," 

JC didn’t say anything, because it _was_ true, but it was also supposed to be an anonymous process, done by secret ballot. Unless they were five-for-five on something, it didn’t fly. They’d always done it like that, and it’d always worked. It helped JC protect himself from being bullied. 

"I mean," Joey continued, "we figured you had reasons for making sure the vote for your stuff always flopped, so we didn’t press it, but maybe we should have because I also know I’m talking to the guy who fucked around with his album so much that Jive nearly refused to release it. You get what I’m saying, C? You kinda, well, you know, you do it to yourself, dude, a little." 

JC pulled the neck of his tee-shirt over his nose, so only his eyes peeked out. 

"C’mon, C, don’t be like that, don’t be mad." Joey bent his head until he met JC’s eyes. "I’m just shooting my mouth off, saying things I shouldn’t, but I worry about you, dude. You and J both, because I think you’d be great together, but it’s not gonna happen if you don’t let it." 

"Man, I just don’t want to be Yoko Ono." 

"Enough with the Beatles metaphors, dude. They’re hurting my head, and yours." Joey smiled wryly, sliding his hand into JC’s hair and tapping on his skull. "You wanna get with J. He wants to get with you. He ain’t asking, because dude, trust me, he has no idea where you’re at." 

JC lifted his eyebrows. 

"Tell me this, C. How’s he supposed to know you’re jealous of Chris when he doesn’t consider Chris anything more than his best friend? And I know you’re making faces under there, convinced I’m talking out my ass, but I swear on my Superman collection that I’m not wrong." 

"That’s a pretty hefty promise, man." 

Joey grinned. "That’s how right I know I am. It _has_ been known to happen." 

"You promise the group won’t break up? That Chris and J won’t, like, combust?" 

Joey put his hand on his chest. "Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a dildo in my eye." 

JC grinned, tugging down his tee-shirt so Joey could see, and they beamed at each other for a good five minutes before Maddy knocked on the window with five Slurpees, a couple trays of nachos and a grease-stained box holding taquitos and hot dogs. Joey started proposing marriage. 

~~~ 

Joey gave him a deadline for Friday night, technically Saturday morning, at two am. There was precedent for this date to be pushed back numerous times, but he didn’t want another intervention, so he made a promise to himself to avoid a tag-team of Joey and Lance at all costs. 

On Thursday night, a strange sort of despair swam through JC’s blood. It was a sure thing, he told himself, that Justin loved him back, but _knowing_ didn’t help a lot. He felt as bad as he had the night before his solo album was finally released. _Worse_ , even, if that was possible. 

"You’re hungry," JC said, his head resting on Justin’s naked belly, listening to it rumble. 

"Nah. I’m probably just digesting," Justin replied lazily, one hand laid over his eyes, the other dancing through JC’s hair. He was smiling, JC knew. He could hear the warmth of the grin in the exciting song of Justin’s sex-roughened voice. "You come like a geyser, man, no shit." 

"Man, that’s gross," JC muttered, grinning against Justin’s quivering stomach. 

"Probably," Justin admitted. "Wanna go again?" 

JC couldn’t stop himself from making love to Justin like it was the last time ever, like it was _the_ _end._ It was like it had been with Bobbie when they’d kept fucking long after they started hating each other, except it really wasn’t like that at all. JC was going to love Justin _forever_ , whether or not they continued with this _experiment_ that felt a lot like a romantic relationship. 

Justin picked up on it, too. "God, C. Why are you always so tense?" 

JC looked up from between Justin’s legs, the tip of Justin’s cock on his tongue. 

"Magic fingers time," Justin said, waving them around like they really could cast spells, then tugging JC up until he was on his belly, his face buried in pillows that smelled like Justin. Humming, Justin lightly rested his ass on the back of JC’s knees, his hands digging into JC’s muscles. 

When JC woke up, Justin was stuck to his back with sweat, whistling lightly in JC’s ear. His arm was slung low across JC’s hips, his cock stiff and nestled between JC’s buttocks. JC didn’t dare move for a myriad of reasons, some complicated and some just because it was nice. 

"I love you," JC murmured quietly. 

Deep in sleep, Justin murmured, but he didn’t wake up, and thank god for that. JC’s heart was racing a mile a minute, flabbergasted at his audacity, at his utter and complete _daring_. JC lay there a little longer, unmoving, until he felt Justin come awake against him with a deep shiver. 

"Hey," Justin said sleepily, his fingers curling around JC’s cock and beginning to stroke. Like breathing, JC thought, how easily they fell into it these days. They were like old lovers now, none of that master and apprentice stuff any more, though JC didn’t really mind role-playing. 

"Can I make you breakfast?" 

Justin chuckled lowly. "Sure. Can I suck your dick?" 

"Before or after?" 

"Both," Justin said, his grin slicing across the whorl of JC’s ear. 

JC thought about it for a moment then, "okay, but can I not come and then fuck you, after?" 

"Deal," Justin said, laughing. 

When they finally got up, after one blowjob apiece, JC made them scrambled eggs and fried ham and toasted white Wonder bread. Then, after, they had sex on Justin’s pristine leather couch, the slow kind of love-making that made JC whimper and squirm and beg embarrassingly. 

It was another hour before JC made it to the shower, limp as a noodle but utterly satisfied. When he came out, dripping wet and towel-drying his hair, Justin swatted him on the butt and disappeared into the bathroom. JC opened the drawer he had claimed as his own, which he hadn’t bothered to ask for because Justin also had one at JC’s place, and looked for a pair of underwear. 

~~~ 

At seven songs, JC figured the chances of the album getting done, regardless of whether or not Chris wanted to rip him apart with a spork, were pretty good. Not one-hundred percent, but close. Knowing that didn’t help calm his nerves, which were in painful and persistent knots. 

Joey and Lance kept looking at him pityingly, which wasn’t helping. JC stayed on the couch, drinking tea with honey and occasionally chiming in with his opinions. If they could get song eight mostly down then the odds of this record coming to fruition were that much better. 

Finally, at five to two in the morning, JC took one last trip to the bathroom to freshen up and then forced himself to go find Justin. Helpfully, Joey swatted him on the ass, and Lance gave him a thumbs up, but JC didn’t feel very assured. Knowing his luck, he was going to find Justin and Chris in some intimate embrace, having finally realised they were destined for each other. 

But JC really didn’t expect that to be true, which made the fact it _was_ totally hilarious. 

Yes. 

They weren’t having sex, but they were knotted up together, faces buried in each other’s necks, a bouquet of roses sitting across Justin’s thighs. Their murmurs were too quiet for JC to hear, but he didn’t expect to hear anything over the roar of his heart as it was ripped into pieces. 

JC tried to back quietly out of the room, but he tripped over a metal wastebasket, which clanged noisily across the linoleum floor and sent him heavily onto his ass. Dazed, JC stared at the ceiling and prayed this was a dream. He always had nightmares about stuff like this. 

Justin’s face appeared over him, blocking his view of the ceiling. "C? Are you okay?" 

"Yes," JC said carefully. 

"Dude," Chris’s head popped up next to Justin’s, the roses flickering in JC’s peripheral vision, "you kinda walked into an unfortunate moment there. I mean, you weren’t supposed to ..." 

" _See_ ," JC said, and Chris nodded. Head still spinning, JC sat up, slapping away Justin’s concerned fingers. The time for Justin putting his hands on him was long gone, at least for a little while, how ever long it took for JC’s heart to mend. Two months, probably. "Congratulations." 

"Uh, thanks." Chris’s eyes narrowed. "How much of that did you hear, anyway? Because all that talk about never loving anybody so much, and, like, being _moved_ by his presence in my life, and wanting to be with him until I was old and impotent? Please don’t let that shit get out." 

"I hope you cats are very happy together," JC said stupidly. "I kinda expected it, anyway." 

"I sure as hell didn’t," Chris said, his voice cracking with excitement. 

JC remembered feeling like that with Justin, sometimes. A lot of the time, really. 

"I’ll leave you dudes alone," JC muttered, unable to take Chris’s overwhelming joy. JC had always thought Chris wasn’t the type of guy with the ability to exude happiness, but he had obviously been wrong about Chris. All Chris had needed was a little Justin. "Okay. Bye." 

"Hold up," Chris said, lifting his hands. Justin was strangely quiet beside him. "What are we talking about?" 

"You and Justin. And I’m very happy for you, really, but I just ... have to leave now, yes." 

Chris blinked. "Justin who?" 

JC could barely even bring himself to look in Justin’s direction. 

"Malcolm asked Chris if he’d consider moving in with him, you know, to make their commitment more formal. And Chris said yes. These," Justin held up the ruby red roses, shaking them a little, "are for Malcolm, from Chris, but Chris knows shit about flowers, so I helped." 

"Oh," JC said. 

"I can’t believe you." The roses flopped around loosely in his fist. "I can’t fucking believe that’s what this has all been about. Me and Chris? Are you on fucking _crack_? Chris has his own fucking boyfriend, and it sure as hell ain’t me. Shit, C, it’s _you_ who _I’ve_ been fucking for weeks." 

" _Him_?" Chris turned his owlish eyes on JC, which started JC squirming. "You’re the hot guy J’s been bagging? The pseudo-virgin who’s been draining Justin’s dick dry?" Chris poked a finger at JC’s chest, hitting him hard below his breastbone. "And nobody bothered to tell me?" 

"You and Justin," JC said helplessly, "you cats are meant-to-be, and I’m just Yoko Ono." 

Chris and Justin exchanged a look, quick and to the point, but whatever went on between them, JC didn’t know. The tension in the room was thick enough to asphyxiate on, the best idea to cross JC’s mind all day. Anything to put things back to how perfect they’d been _before_ , but if that meant _before_ JC opened his big fucking mouth or _before_ Justin, he didn’t know. 

"Fuck," Justin said abruptly, then turned on his heels and left the room stomping. 

"Let him go," Chris said when JC took a step after him, putting a firm hand on JC’s arm. 

"Man, I can’t. I fucked up so bad, Chris. I have to fix it." 

"He’ll come back, man. You know he will. Stay, okay, so me and you can chat." 

And it was only because Joey and Lance had set a precedent and been right that JC stayed. He let Chris lead him to the ratty studio couch that had likely produced countless hits. For the price they paid, it better have. JC collapsed into the cushions and buried his head in his hands. 

~~~ 

JC liked Chris a lot, but it was almost too easy to get on Chris’s shit-list. JC tried to tell himself that he served a very specific function in Chris’s life as the guy who could take Chris’s often ruthless, occasionally cruel, teasing and take it with a smile. JC was too valuable to kill. 

But Chris didn’t seem angry, not in the slightest, just resigned when he looked at JC and said, without the slightest quiver in his voice, "don’t fuck this up for me, okay?" 

JC dropped his gaze to his lap and the nervous twist of his fingers. "What?" 

"This. Me and Malcolm." Chris blinked suddenly, like an idea had hit him right in the balls, and it probably felt like it had, JC thought, when Chris asked, "you haven’t said anything to him, have you? Because if that’s why he asked me to. If this is his way of trying to _keep_ me." 

"Man, it’s not. I haven’t said anything to him. I promise, dude, not a word." 

"Okay," Chris said, sitting back and sighing deeply, rubbing his hand across his mouth like a man in pain. "Fuck, C. I don’t know who to be more pissed at: you, for making Justin think there was something wrong with him; J, for not telling me you were the guy he was moping over; or myself, for not making it clear how much Malcolm means to me, that I, you know, _love_ him." 

JC tilted his head, shifting his eyes from his hands to Chris’s face. "You do?" 

"I do." Chris scrubbed a hand violently through his hair. "Fuck, C. I know you barely know the guy, and that’s totally my fault, I admit it, but he’s awesome, you know? I met his dad, and his brothers, and we’re getting a dog together. Can you believe it, man? A fucking _dog_." 

"Wow," JC said, honestly blown away. Because Chris didn’t _do_ dogs, not after Dani. 

There was an awkward pause, and JC glanced out the window, seeing Joey and Lance in the parking lot, sitting on the hood of Chris’s car, perfectly illuminated despite the late hour by the glare of an overhead streetlight. The yellow package of gum shone like the sun at night in Lance’s hand. Justin’s car was gone. Quickly, JC redirected his eyes to his bare, curled toes. 

"J’s not mad, man. It may look like it, but love makes things easy to forgive. Okay?" 

"Okay, yes," JC said glumly, rubbing his hands together, feeling antsy and vaguely crazy. 

"And you aren’t Yoko Ono, C." Chris put his hand on JC’s wrist. "Seriously, dude, don’t worry about crap like that. That stuff about Yoko Ono breaking up the Beatles is bullshit. They broke themselves. I know I’m the last one to impart wisdom on, like, love, but there’s only one thing you could do to kill the group and your friendship with Justin, and you know what that is, C." 

"Cheat on him," JC answered promptly. "Man, I stopped with my internet guys for him." 

"See? Everything else you can figure out as you go along like the rest of us losers." 

"I’m having to figure out a lot," JC admitted, tilting his head so his hair veiled his eyes. 

"No shit," Chris said, but quietly, like he didn’t mean it to be cruel. 

JC looked over, and Chris rolled his eyes right up into his head then cracked a rueful smile. It’d been months, JC realised suddenly, since they’d hung out together, much longer than the few weeks it had taken JC to go completely insane. Chris hadn’t been _close_ enough before then. He’d been living his own life, with a boyfriend that they’d only known about in theory. 

JC widened his eyes. "You thought my problem was with you, didn’t you, man?" 

"It had crossed my mind," Chris replied wryly, but he was hurt, too. JC was a moron when it came to himself, but he usually got other people, especially the guys. Usually, but not this time. The thing about thinking with your dick was that it made you very, very stupid. 

"I’m sorry." 

"Apology accepted. Like I said, love makes things easy to forgive. It’s okay." 

"Thank you," JC said, putting his hand on Chris’s knee and giving it a hearty squeeze, "and man, I don’t mean to ditch you, but I think I gotta go find J and explain things. Mad or not, and I think he’s gotta be a little pissed, he needs to know that I love him. Like, right now, dude." 

"Ah, but we’re not finished talking, C. Just hold up, all right?" 

"But J, man," JC said weakly, gesturing at the door. "I have things to declare." 

Chris smiled. "C, I really don’t give a shit." 

~~~ 

They didn’t talk much after that, which made JC’s left eye twitch repeatedly. Somewhere out there, Justin was walking around not knowing how heartfelt JC’s intentions were, and JC was sitting with Chris, not talking but nearly on each other’s lap. Chris was twiddling his thumbs. 

"It’s my fault Justin didn’t tell you," JC said suddenly, "about me and him, doing stuff." 

"I figured. I’m a little cheesed about that, but since I’m unwittingly the villain in your twisted little situational comedy, I guess I understand your motives. Even if you’re an incredible moron," Chris added. JC nodded his heartfelt agreement. "I get where you got the idea, though." 

"I thought J mostly confirmed it when he told me he’d lost his guy-virginity to you." 

"Uh, no, because that never actually happened. Believe me, I’d remember doing it if I did, which I fucking didn’t. I can be a pretty forgiving about age differences. Hell, Malcolm is seven years older than me," which was a tidbit JC made a mental note of, "but no. Trace did that." 

"Trace," JC echoed. Trace, the _other_ best friend. "Oh, _shit_." 

"C, I’ve been hit in the balls so many times by that kid and his gigantic hands that no way would I trust him near my junk. Never mind the fact you’re clearly forgetting: Justin was _thirteen_ when him and Trace did shit, which makes me twenty-three at the time, and no fucking way would I ever think about it. Rewrite the story to include that bit of information, will you." 

Chris’s voice was light but bland. JC knew he was being fucked with, even if he didn’t understand exactly _how_. And JC honestly couldn’t believe Chris was dating a guy who was seven years older than him. Chris, who acted half his age and claimed he had stopped aging at thirty. 

"I think I am a little angry," Chris admitted. JC’s heart sank a little, though he had known it was going too smoothly, and he hadn’t really expected Chris to let it go, just hoped. "But mostly, I’m disappointed. I mean, c’mon, dude, as one of us, I expected _you_ to get it. Joey and Lance get it, and I think Justin does, but it kinda pisses me off, man, that you don’t seem to." 

JC shrugged, scratching the bridge of his nose with his index finger. 

"Remember me mentioning the inevitability of a homoerotic vibe in our songs?" 

JC flushed thinking about what had led Chris to make that statement. 

"And you might have noticed the unending stream of gay jokes about us? I mean, it’s kinda funny, because they’re a little right, but they don’t know that. I could rant about how when guys show affection to each other, it’s automatically gay, but," Chris shook his head, "well, we probably _are_ all in love with each other, even if we all don’t sleep with each other. You know?" 

"Not really." Sometimes, Chris’s logic was a little out there. Mostly, JC blamed it on Chris’s half-finished psychology degree, which was the foundation for most of Chris’s theories. 

Chris sighed. "Okay. Better question. Why did you and Bobbie break up?" 

"I was too into the music," JC answered quickly. They had fought a lot near the end, and while JC wasn’t a big screamer, Bobbie had picked up the slack. "I kept picking it over her, and that pissed her off. Also, she called me a freak and a little brain-damaged and too sex-obsessed." 

"Okay, ignoring the second half of that ramble: and the music is what?" 

"... is this a rhetorical question?" 

"Just answer, C." 

"The music is. Well, man, it’s songs," JC said, pleased when Chris nodded, "and it’s instruments, and it’s. I guess, it’s how you feel, singing, when you’re on stage, and the cats are screaming, but you don’t hear any of it. It’s the sound of your voice and the voices around you." 

"So it’s ..." 

JC blinked as the answer tumbled into his brain. "Man, it’s you guys." 

Chris snapped his fingers. "Bingo. Which means, to outsiders, it’s easy to confuse. It takes a certain kinda person to get it, you know? Kelly gets it. She knows Joey loves us, but she also knows Joey loves her, that it’s not an either/or. Dani got it, but then other shit happened." 

"Does Malcolm get it?" 

"I hope to fuck he does." 

They lapsed into silence. Joey and Lance were still outside, sitting on the hood of Chris’s car. JC could see the bright expanse of Joey’s grin and the enthusiastic flap of Lance’s hands. JC supposed, to someone who didn’t know what they were seeing, it looked like they were in love. 

They probably were, JC figured. He loved Joey, and Lance, and Chris. And he loved Justin, too, even if that love had changed form a little in recent weeks, but the foundation, the shape of the feeling he felt for all of the guys, was still there, sturdy and strong and perfect. 

"Dude," JC said, and let it hang there, floating in mid-air. 

"I know. You and J are fucking with my theory, but whatever. I say go for it, you know, if you’re feeling it, and it looks like you are. You guys got that missing piece to the puzzle, the one that rounds out this crazy little thing we call love. C, you are so Justin’s type that it’s perfect." 

JC grinned so wide his peripheral vision faded to black. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," Chris said, leaning up against JC, smiling. 

They were having a moment, JC realised, a long overdue and desperately welcome moment. There was still a twist of unease in JC’s belly about Justin, but he felt better about that, overall, than he had in weeks. Cleansed, somehow, like his humours had finally settled right. 

"Man, I can’t believe you’re sleeping with a forty-year-old environmentalist." 

"I can’t believe you’re sleeping with _Justin_ _Timberlake_ ," Chris replied, laughing. 

~~~ 

JC dozed because it was about the only thing he could do keep himself from going insane. Waiting. JC had never been very good at it. It was his own damn fault, always and without fail, but it still annoyed him. Chris’s breath had evened out, too. The couch _was_ pretty comfortable. 

"C," Chris said later, waking JC up with an insistent hand against JC’s shoulder. Blearily, JC opened his eyes to see Chris right up in his face. "Dude, your ass is beeping in my ear." 

JC rubbed his eyes then reached down into his back pocket, fishing out his cell phone. He flipped the lid, then raised an eyebrow. He had email? Scratch that, he had _seven_ emails, with an eighth popping up in the time it took for JC to register his disbelief. JC used to get email forwarded from the chat site he had used to get digital with his internet guys, but that had been stopped weeks ago. 

"You are such a nerd," Chris said, peering over his shoulder. "My phone doesn’t do shit." 

"If you bothered to read the manual, yours would do this, too," JC replied idly. 

JC pressed a couple buttons until his inbox popped up. The sender was someone called TheRealJRT81, which caused JC’s other eyebrow to join its brother. Justin couldn’t even program his own VCR without a conference call and the instructions open in front of him. 

JC opened the first email, sitting back so fast he smacked the back of his skull against Chris’s forehead. JC ignored Chris’s surprised yelp of pain. He opened the second email, and the third, and the fourth. They were all the same. An attachment and the words: PS, I love you. 

"Is that a picture of J’s dick?" Chris asked, rubbing his brow with his fingers. 

JC’s heart was beating like a drumline on speed. He would recognise that cock anywhere. 

"Looks like our boy has come back," Chris said gleefully, kneeling up. "His car is here!" 

"What am I supposed to do?" JC asked stupidly, opening the fourth, fifth and sixth email, marvelling at the slight differences in the pictures. Justin hadn’t taken just one and sent it out, at last check, twenty-six times. He’d taken twenty-six pictures, and they were still trickling in. 

"Go," Chris said, and gave him a friendly shove onto the floor. 

JC didn’t know what to expect when he stepped into the hall, but he had at least thought Justin would be there. He wasn’t. JC looked up the hall toward the studio and back down toward the parking lot. Joey and Lance were still outside; it looked like they were playing hopscotch. 

JC took one step, then stopped at the resulting _crunch_ beneath his foot. Curiously, he looked down. There was a crushed nacho chip under his flip flop, the yellow crumbs sprinkled like stardust on the linoleum. A line of nacho chips led into the utility closet. JC followed it. 

There was a line of light underneath the door, and his phone was still beeping its song, and JC turned the knob with fingers that felt like rubber bands, and then. There was Justin, standing there with his pants down, his phone in his hand, taking shaky pictures of his own dick. 

"J," JC said when Justin looked up, cheeks faintly pink, eyes blue like the ocean. 

"Do you get it now?" 

Justin held out his hand, and JC took it, closing the door behind him. 

"Man," JC said shakily, "I think there’s probably a lot of symbolism I’m totally missing here," but JC thought about the pictures, the nachos, the utility closet, and realised he probably did get it all. He’d been paying as much attention to Justin as Justin had been paying to him. 

"Bullshit. You get it," Justin said excitedly, pulling JC closer. His pants were still down. 

"I get it," JC replied, so giddy that all he could do was cover Justin’s face with frantic, desperate kisses, laughing when they bumped the brooms and sent them clattering to the ground. "And man, me too. I love you. For weeks, and longer, too. I’m such a moron, J. I’m a dork." 

"Duh," Justin said, laughing. "But I forgive you, okay? Now let’s have make-up sex." 

"Here?" JC’s fingers were already scrambling for Justin’s fly, overeager, as always. 

"Here," Justin shoved his hands down the back of JC’s pants, pulling him so close they nearly tumbled to the ground, overbalanced and loving it, "and just for the record, I was gonna spell _I love you_ out of hot dogs, but Maddy didn’t have enough on the grill and frozen 7-Eleven wieners looked a lot like dead penises, which, you know, is a little too weird, even for me." 

JC grinned, nipping at Justin’s flapping lips. "Man, please stop talking." 

"Just want to make sure," Justin said between kisses, "there’s no mis-communication." 

"I swear, J, I really do get it," JC repeated, and knew, this time, he actually did. 

~~~ 

The next two weeks were insanely busy. With the five of them feeding off each other’s enthusiasm, they finished cutting tracks for the album, but it wasn’t done. There was production to tweak, and songs to cut from their group of twenty, and more last-minute songs to be added. 

JC came out to his parents as something like bisexual and ended up telling them too much about his sex life, but it was hard to explain. Sometimes, it felt like Justin, and not his gender, was the deciding factor, which was a puzzle for another day. ‘Something like bisexual’ just _fit_. 

JC made a collage of the pictures Justin had emailed him, putting them up in the bathroom, which freaked Justin out the first time he saw it, which made JC laugh until his stomach ached. He took over another drawer for more clothes, which was symbolic in itself, and JC knew it now. 

Then there was the weekend they set aside to help Chris and Malcolm move into their new place, to be paid only in beer and pizza for a day’s work. It was a quaint place located closer to where Justin and JC were in Orlando. Their carpool routine would never, ever be the same. 

"You know," Justin said as they juggled Malcolm’s couch, trying to get it up the lawn without dropping it on Brianna or the new dog, a black lab named Sirius, "you have enough money to start your own moving company, with pennies to spare. What’s with the free labour?" 

Chris looked around the wall of his mattress. "Hey, who gave you permission to speak?" 

"Fuck off," Justin said, laughing. JC bit his lower lip as the couch slid toward him. 

"Watch what you say around my kid, bonehead!" Joey shouted from the upstairs window. 

"Uh-oh, dad just yelled at you," Malcolm said, laughing. 

He and Chris slapped a quick high five then Chris tucked his hand into the back pocket of Malcolm’s jeans, leaning up to whisper in Malcolm’s ear. They grinned at each other before ducking behind the giant mattress. JC got warm just thinking about how happy Chris seemed. 

Malcolm was actually a nice guy, once JC got to know him. They had some serious bonding time over the entertainment unit, which had come with instructions only in Swedish. It took them three hours, but they did it, and it didn’t collapse when they heaved Malcolm’s modest 27" tv onto it. There was another tv, Chris’s, that took up an entire wall in the upstairs rec room. 

"It’s beautiful," Malcolm said with a low whistle, admiring their craftsmanship. 

"Congratulations, man," JC replied, meaning it in all possible ways, meaning it _earnestly_. 

Malcolm looked at him sideways, a smile warm on his lips, and slightly bowed his head. His hair was cut in a shaggy style, with a few strands of grey highlighting the dark shadows. Handsome in a plain way, which wasn’t something Chris usually went for, and brown eyes. 

"Man, I should have said this a lot sooner: welcome to the family, dude." 

JC offered his hand, shaking when Malcolm’s palm slid against it. 

There was a wild menagerie of people covering the wide lawn. Taking a break, JC surveyed them. Justin and Chris’s moms had come over to help with organisation, an endeavour which was spearheaded by Lance. He kept yelling at Chris and Malcolm for bad labelling. Lance was a bit of a control freak, sometimes. They kept plying him with beer, getting him to relax. 

Brianna was underfoot with Sirius the dog, following Kelly around and always singing, so obviously Joey’s kid. Joey was also shadowing Kelly, clapping her on and saying stuff like, "good job, Kel, good job, but maybe you wanna watch the corners there" until she socked him and told him to help her with the "damn ugly chair". Together, they wrestled Chris’s recliner into the house. 

Malcolm’s brothers had also come. Malcolm was the oldest, just like Chris. The youngest, Brian, was very gay, and a very big fan of Nsync. In Justin’s car, JC let him listen to the new tracks. Joey’s parents stopped by with a huge watermelon in the late afternoon, which was a bad idea. It took JC an hour to pick all the seeds out of his hair, even with Justin’s help. 

"Man, we’re okay," JC said quietly as Justin threaded his fingers through his hair. 

Justin tapped two fingers against JC’s temple. "We always are. That would be nice, huh? The five of us, spanning eighty to ninety, still singing. Always will be, I think. I hope, anyway. And hey, why the fuck are you still thinking shit like that? You’re a big worrywort, C, I swear." 

"Yep," JC said, smiling as he kissed the round of Justin’s bony knee. 

"We’re gonna be one of those bands who people beg to quit, but they keep going on. That’s gonna be so fucking awesome." Justin drummed his fingers on JC’s scalp excitedly. "C, isn’t that gonna be awesome? It’s gonna be us, all, fuck you, world! We fucking _refuse_ to submit!" 

JC looked up at Justin, and grinned. He looked forward to it, completely unafraid.


End file.
